Something Beautiful Remains
by memellymoo
Summary: Despite all the pain, anger and betrayal between them something beautiful remained - Carla/Peter (AU after 04/06/14)
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Something Beautiful Remains

**Summary: **Despite all the pain, anger and betrayal between them something beautiful remained - Carla/Peter (AU from 05/06/14)

**Pairing: **Carla/Peter.

**Notes: **I was really disappointed that the writers decided to have Carla lose the baby so I decided to re-write the episode with a different ending, after that it kind of took on a life of it's own and became a multi-chapter story.

**Disclaimer: **This characters of Coronation Street and the premise belong to ITV and not me.

1.

As Michelle and Rob helped Carla into an exam room she practically fell onto the trolley, her whole body collapsing in on itself as she silently begged her unborn child to hold on.

"No, no, no," she whimpered, her voice barely audible.

"The midwife said you need to change into a gown," Michelle reminded her.

Carla nodded, curling her body up as she wrapped her arms around her stomach, in a desperate bid to protect her baby from all of the stress that surrounded it. "Ok."

"I'll wait outside," Rob mumbled.

Slowly Michelle helped Carla into a generic blue and white hospital gown. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Please," Carla breathed, letting out a small cry as the pain intensified.

Entering the room the midwife started to unravel the BP cuff. "Have you had any spotting?"

"No," Carla whimpered.

"What about cramping? Dizziness? Fever? Vomiting?" the midwife asked.

Looking down at her closest friend Michelle could see that she was in too much pain to reply. "Er she was really pale and she hasn't had much of an appetite then all of a sudden she collapsed in agony."

"What sort of pain is it?" the midwife questioned, writing in Carla's notes.

"Sharp," Carla stammered, pressing her hand further into her right side.

The midwife flicked through Carla's notes. "It says here you were in before with abdominal pain?"

"Yeah," Carla confirmed. "I was in a few weeks ago but the pain was nothing like this."

Sitting up Carla closed her eyes as the whole room seemed to spin around her, opening them slowly she jerked forward her hand immediately going to her stomach as she was gripped by a sharp pain, retching violently she lost what little food she had managed to eat that day.

"I'm sorry," Carla half-whimpered, half-cried as Michelle and a midwife helped her into a new gown.

"You feel warm," Michelle frowned, running her hand through Carla's hair.

Carla shook her head, not really registering what Michelle was saying. "Am I losing my baby?"

"We don't know anything yet, not until the doctor has examined you and run some tests. I know it's easier said than done but the most important thing right now is that you stay calm," the midwife said, as she put a probe onto Carla's finger before wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm.

Michelle watched as Carla lay her head back against the hard, hospital trolley, her eyes fluttering shut as she took a series of deep breaths. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No," Carla breathed as she felt the nurse put the thermometer into her ear.

Writing the observations down on a chart the nurse then turned her attention back to Carla. "How many weeks are you?"

"Almost 19," Carla replied as her head started to spin again.

"Are you ok?" Michelle asked as she watched Carla turn a horrible shade of grey.

Bolting forward Carla shook her head, her hand going to her mouth. "I'm gonna be sick again."

With the practiced reflexes of a midwife the brunette grabbed a cardboard bowl from the side and placed it in front of Carla as the factory boss heaved violently into the bowl, bringing up nothing but stomach acid as her eyes watered.

Reaching out Michelle placed a comforting hand on Carla's back as she felt the energy practically drain from her friend with each violent heave.

Exhausted, Carla once again slumped back against the trolley, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to gain control of her senses.

"Hello. I'm Doctor Jenner," a middle aged woman said as she walked into the cubicle and took the chart from the nurse. "You must be Carla Barlow?"

Slowly as if her head was full of lead Carla nodded. "Yes."

"Vitals?" Doctor Jenner asked, turning her attention to the midwife as she washed her hands.

"Heart rate 119, blood pressure 100/49, oxygen levels are 99% and she's pyrexial at 39.7 degrees," the midwife said as she stepped back, allowing the doctor to take her place by the bed.

Michelle frowned as she heard the nurses words, lifting her hand up she placed the back of it against Carla's forehead. "I thought you felt warm. Why didn't you tell me you had a temperature?"

"I didn't know," Carla sheepishly admitted, worrying about what this meant for her baby. "I've felt flushed since earlier at the station but I just thought it was stress. I didn't … oh God … I should have realised … my baby …"

Putting the notes down the doctor spoke up. "Carla? Is it all right if I call you Carla?"

"Yes," Carla whispered, grateful the nurse had dropped the Barlow because the last thing she wanted was a reminder of him and what he had done to her, not when she needed to be concentrating all of her strength on the wellbeing of her unborn child.

"How long you've had the temperature isn't important, what we need to do now is find out what is causing it, which means I need to do a full examination and then we need to run a few tests; blood, urine, as well as an ultrasound scan, whilst we're waiting for the results I'm going to have the nurse put a cannula in and start you on some fluids because you're showing signs of becoming dehydrated," the doctor explained.

Carla bit her bottom lip, trying to keep herself from crying. "Ok."

Turning towards the midwife the doctor instructed her on what bloods to take and fluids to give before she turned her attention towards Carla and started to carefully examine her, making sure she explained what she was doing every step of the way.

Outside in the waiting area Rob paced back and forth in front of the vending machine, his guilt eating away at him as he realised that if Carla lost the baby it would be another death on his conscious.

"Where is she?" Peter demanded to know, staggering into the waiting room.

"As far away from you as possible," Rob hissed at his brother-in-law.

Peter shook his head. "She's my wife."

"A fact that didn't seem to cross your mind when you were playing away with the barmaid," Peter reminded the drunk.

"That's my baby, I have more right than you to be here," Peter tried, desperate to find out how Carla and the baby were.

Rob stepped towards him, his eyes burning with rage. "You gave up any rights when you dropped your trousers."

"I know I hurt her-"

"Hurt her?" Rob raged, cutting Peter off mid sentence. "You didn't just hurt her you broke her, if anything happens to that baby it's on you," he added, deflecting his own feelings of guilt.

Peter stepped back away from Rob. "I didn't come here to argue. I came here for Carla."

"You didn't come here for Carla," Rob snorted. "You came here to make yourself feel better, to try and absolve some of your guilt, in fact the last thing you were thinking about was Carla because if you were then you would have known that having you around was the last thing she needs right now."

"I-"

Rob dropped his hands to his side. "You know what? You're not worth it, I'm not going to waste my time on you … not when my sister needs me."

"Carla," Peter mumbled. "Carla and the baby that's all that matters right now."

Meanwhile inside the examination room Carla looked up from her hands as she heard raised voices outside. "Is that Peter?"

Opening the blinds a little Michelle nodded. "But it looks like Rob's dealing with it."

"Ok," Carla cried as she was gripped by yet another wave of agony, her whole body shaking as the midwife tried to get an IV into her and the monitors that they had managed to hook up began to bleep loudly letting them know just how much physical distress their patient was in.

"Her heart is racing," the midwife observed.

"She's burning up," Michelle panicked rested her hand on Carla's cheek.

The midwife removed the thermometer from Carla's ear. "Her fever is over 40 degrees."

As Carla's stomach finally stopped cramping she practically fell back against the trolley, exhausted and scared for what all of this meant for her baby. "I can't lose this baby," she cried, repeating her earlier plea.

"Carla I need to examine you now," Dr. Jenner told her as she lifted the gown and gently began examining her, her physicians instincts immediately kicking in as her whole body seemed to jump with agony as she gently laid her hands on the right side of her stomach, shocked to find just how rigid it was.

The monitor recording Carla's vital signs began to bleep loudly once again. "Her blood pressure is dropping," the midwife informed him.

"I need that scan in here now," the doctor said as the midwife ran out of the room, returning just minutes later with the portable ultrasound.

"Peter. I want Peter," Carla cried, despite all the pain, anger and hurt she was feeling towards her husband at the moment she wanted him by her side for the scan, because no matter what had happened between them the life inside her was still a constant reminder of what they both shared. A innocent life created out of nothing but love.

Michelle frowned. "Are you sure?"

Carla nodded, her eyes bright with tears. "Yes. Please 'Chelle, I need him."

"Ok," Michelle reluctantly agreed, walking out of the cubicle and heading over towards where Peter and Rob stood facing each other in a silent stand-off. "So Carla's about to have her scan," Michelle informed them.

"Is she ok?" Peter asked, his voice almost frantic with worry.

Michelle took a deep breath before speaking. "Why don't you go and find out for yourself."

Peter's eyes widened in shock. "Carla made it crystal clear she doesn't want me anywhere near her."

Looking towards Rob she silently warned him not to say a word before she turned her attention back towards Peter. "She's terrified and in pain but it's your baby too and Carla wants you in there with her."

Not needing to be told twice Peter nodded. "Ok," he said as he headed towards the examination room, the shock of the situation having a sudden sobering effect on him as he felt clear headed for the first time in days.

Stepping into the room he was shocked by the state he found his estranged wife in. She was as pale as the sheet she laid on and her whole body and hair were soaked with sweat as she gripped on tightly to the edge of the blanket, her whole body shaking with pain and fear.

"It's going to be alright," Peter tried to reassure her as he stood next to the bed.

"You don't know that," Carla cried as the doctor lifted her gown ready to start the scan.

Taking a seat Peter sat down by the bed, his hands gripped together in a prayer like stance as his eyes fixed firmly on the screen, praying that their lives were not about to be devastated once again.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Peter asked as the doctor got up and walked across the room.

"I just need to get one of my colleagues for a second opinion," she told them as she exited the room, leaving Peter and Carla alone for the first time in days.

Carla lifted her hand and placed it on her stomach. "This is bad. I can feel it."

Within minutes of the doctor leaving the room she entered again, this time accompanied by a tall, greying gentleman.

"Please just tell us what's going on," Peter pleaded.

Looking at the screen the older doctor gently ran the wand over Carla's stomach, pausing in the centre as a loud, steady heartbeat filled the room.

"Is that?" Carla asked, almost too scared to hope.

The doctor nodded. "The ultrasound shows a strong steady heartbeat and a baby that is growing right on track."

"So my baby is ok?" Carla asked, finally allowing herself to hope.

"For now everything looks perfect, however that isn't what the doctor was worried about," the older man explained, turning the screen so that they could both see it he pointed to a dark area in the bottom right hand corner. "This is what she was concerned about."

Peter frowned, having absolutely no idea what he was looking at. "What is it?"

"It's what has been causing all of the problems, Carla it looks like your appendix has ruptured which has then caused infection to collect around it causing the pain, fever and vomiting, it's probably been grumbling away for weeks, it's likely it was also the cause of your visit here a few weeks ago," the doctor explained.

"Why wasn't it picked up then," Peter asked, trying to deflect his guilt because he couldn't help but fear that if he hadn't been so wrapped up in Tina he would have noticed something was wrong earlier.

The female doctor stepped forward. "Appendicitis is quite often misdiagnosed in pregnant women in the early stages, unfortunately a lot of the symptoms are the same as common pregnancy ones. The important thing is that we now know what's been causing all of your symptoms."

"So you can fix it?" Peter asked.

"We need to get you into surgery straight away," the doctor explained, addressing his answer towards Carla. "Then after the surgery you'll have to stay in hospital until we're sure the infection is completely cleared."

Wincing in pain Carla curled up on her side. "But my baby will be ok?"

"It's impossible to know anything for certain, at the moment everything indicates that your pregnancy is progressing as it should, but a ruptured appendix and peritonitis is a very big complication, Mrs Barlow your body is under a lot of stress right now and there is no guarantees and with the added stress of surgery you could still suffer a miscarriage," he told them, not wanting to scare them but knowing that they needed all the facts.

Lifting her head up off of the bed Carla faced the doctor. "Then I don't want that surgery."

"I'm afraid there isn't a choice in the matter, without the surgery the infection will spread and you'll die, having the surgery is the only option for you and the baby," Dr. Jenner honestly explained.

Peter moved down from the head of the bed so that he was eyelevel with Carla. "She's right, you need the surgery. Besides if this baby is half as strong as you we have nothing to worry about."

Realising they were right Carla nodded, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to give in to the pain and exhaustion that was raging through her body.

"Someone will be in shortly to get you, I need to go and scrub in," the older doctor said as he got up to leave.

"Thank-you," Peter smiled tightly unable to believe how much things had gone wrong.

Pulling the cover up over herself Carla tried to get warm. "You need to leave now."

"What I need is to be here with my wife and our child," Peter countered.

"There's nothing you can do here," Carla pointed out. "Please, Peter, please. I wanted you here before because I was scared, I thought I was losing our baby and that you had a right to be here. But now I know that the baby is ok … having you here it just makes it hurt all over again, I can't have you here Peter, seeing you it just … it's stress and reminders that I don't need," she explained, her voice thick with exhaustion.

Peter could see that Carla was working herself up into a state and he knew that right now that was the last thing she needed, not when her body was already under so much stress. "Ok," he agreed. "But I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

Standing up Peter reluctantly walked away his heart breaking as he heard Carla whisper gentle words of reassurance to their unborn child as he closed the door behind him finding himself face-to-face with Rob and Michelle.

"How is she?" Michelle asked.

"Not good," Peter replied, his voice cracking.

Michelle stepped closer to the distraught man. "Is it the baby? Oh God please tell me it's not the baby, I don't think she could survive another loss right now."

"No, er the baby is fine but Carla she … her appendix has ruptured and the doctor says that it's caused an infection and that they need to operate … he says that the stress of the operation and everything means she could still lose the baby," Peter explained, his words thick with unshed tears.

Knowing that Carla needed them to stay positive for her Rob was the next to speak. "Carla's strong, just look at how much she's already overcome. And if my niece or nephew has just a small percentage of her strength then they are not going to let a little thing like appendicitis stop them from entering this world."

Peter nodded, needing to believe that Rob was right and that Carla and the baby would be ok because as horrible as things were between them right now he loved her, with every fibre of his being and the thought of not having her in his life destroyed him, but not as much as the thought of having a world without her in it at all.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Running on empty Peter continued to pace nervously back and forth across the waiting room, his hands shaking from too much coffee and not enough alcohol.

"Looks like someone needs a drink," Rob hissed into Michelle's ear.

Michelle watched as Peter ran his hands tiredly across his face. "Not now," she warned Rob.

"He shouldn't be here," Rob continued. "He's the reason Carla is here in the first place."

Leaning her head against the wall Michelle closed her eyes. "As much as I hate him for what he's done to her not even Peter has the power to cause appendicitis."

"If she hadn't have been so caught off guard by his lying, cheating ways she would have known something was wrong sooner and things would never have got this bad," Rob argued.

"We were there too," Michelle pointed out, feeling the need to play devil's advocate. "I was with her right before it happened, I knew something was wrong but I just thought it was stress and exhaustion, I should have picked up on the fact she was in pain, I should have-"

Rob shook his head. "Exactly my point, if we hadn't have been so blinkered into thinking everything that was going on with her was caused by the drama with Peter and Tina we would have connected the dots sooner."

"They're going to be ok," Michelle said, silently praying that what she said was true.

"You don't know that," Rob countered.

"Yes I do," Michelle insisted.

Throwing his empty cup in the bin Rob sighed. "We might need to believe that but the truth is until Carla's out of surgery no one knows that for sure."

"Carla's strong," Michelle said taking a long sip of her now cold coffee. "And so is that baby, if anyone can survive this she can."

"Even the strongest people break eventually Michelle," Rob breathed, hating himself for his part in the situation. "And Carla … well she's already been through so much; Paul, Liam, Tony, Frank and now this, where does it all end? I know she's no angel but she doesn't deserve this, she should be looking forward to being a mother not spending everything she has fighting just to get through each day."

Reaching out Michelle took hold of his hand. "She's not alone."

"I'm never going to let her down again," Rob vowed, glaring menacingly at Peter. "Ever."

"This isn't your fault," Michelle tried to reassure him, completely oblivious to Rob's real involvement in recent events.

Shaking his head Rob stood up, pulling his hand free from hers. "I hate how much power he has over her," he raged, turning his anger towards Peter who stood leaning against the wall as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"She loves him," Michelle smiled sadly.

"He's not worthy of her love," Rob silently seethed, watching as Peter sunk down into one of the chairs.

Michelle looked from Peter to Rob before finally settling her gaze back on Rob. "That's not our call. All we can do is be there for her no matter what."

"And I will be," Rob insisted. "But I will also do everything in my power to make sure he never gets close enough to hurt my sister or her baby ever again."

"You-"

Michelle's reply was cut short as the door's opened and the surgeon entered, heading straight for Peter.

"Mr Barlow?" he asked, stopping a few feet from the chairs.

Peter stood up, suddenly feeling more sober than he had in days. "Yes. Mr Barlow. That's me."

"How is she?" Michelle asked, practically jumping from her chair.

"And you are?" the surgeon wondered, as much as he hated having to ask he was also bound by confidentiality rules that didn't allow him to share private information with just anyone.

Peter motioned to Rob and Michelle. "They're family, you can say whatever it is with them here."

"How is she?" Rob asked, repeating Michelle's question of just seconds earlier.

"Carla came through the surgery just fine, we were able to remove her appendix and all of the infected areas," the doctor told them, knowing from experience that people didn't want to be weighed down with medical jargon they just wanted to know how their loved ones were.

Peter took a deep breath before asking the next question. "And the baby?"

"The heartbeat remained strong and steady throughout without any signs of distress to the baby, the obstetrician will do a scan to confirm but so far everything looks good," he replied, watching as a wave of relief seemed to wash over everyone around him.

Nodding Michelle let out a breath she hadn't even realised she was holding. "Can we see her?"

"Of course, I'll have someone come and get you as soon as she's settled into a room," he promised before leaving them alone to digest the good news.

"See," Michelle smiled. "I told you they would both be fine."

Rob lowered his gaze towards Peter. "They may have both survived the operation but I would hardly say things are fine."

"Rob," Michelle warned.

Peter looked up from the ground. "It's alright Michelle, he's clearly got something he needs to get off his chest."

"You bet I have," Rob said, taking a step towards Peter. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What you're little affair with Tina has done to her?"

Balling his hands up Peter nodded. "I don't need you to remind me, I have to live with the consequences of my actions for the rest of my life."

"At least you get to live," Rob pointed out.

"I didn't kill Tina," Peter insisted, knowing with every fibre of his being that even in his darkest moments he was not capable of murder.

Rob took another step forward, his eyes full of so much hate that the devil himself would have cowered. "Let's just say for a second that I believe you and you didn't kill Tina. That still doesn't change the fact that you cheated on my sister, that from the word go your whole marriage has been built on lies. She gave you everything she had, she loved … loves you and she wanted to have a family with you which is something I never thought I'd see but she did, for the first time in her life she wanted the 2.4 children lifestyle and she wanted it with you. Why wasn't that enough for you?"

"Carla is my world-"

"You have a funny way of showing it," Rob scoffed, cutting off the other man's lousy attempt at an excuse.

"I-"

Holding up his hand Rob finally took a step back. "You know what, I don't want to hear it. Any excuses that you may have up your sleeve are just a waste of time because there is no excusing what you've done. And believe me when I say I will make you pay, you will regret breaking my sister until the day you die."

"I don't need you're help doing that," Peter whispered. "I've destroyed the greatest thing to ever happen to me and I have no one but myself to blame, but you also need to know this, I love Carla. I love her. And I will not give up on her and our child as long as I still have breath in my body," he vowed as he walked away, leaving Rob to silently stew as they waited for further news.

"Family of Carla Barlow?" a nurse asked as she entered the waiting room.

All 3 occupants started to speak at once.

"Yes."

"Here."

"That's us."

The nurse smiled, more than used to anxious families. "She's asking for Michelle," she continued, turning to face the only woman in the group.

"Did she ask for anyone else?" Peter said, hoping that the fact she'd let him be there for the scan earlier was a sign that she was willing to at least be in the same room as him now.

The nurse shook her head. "Sorry. She only mentioned Michelle."

"I'll keep you updated," Michelle promised as she followed the nurse out of the waiting room.

"She's still quite groggy from the anaesthetic but she is waking up," the nurse informed her as she opened the door to Carla's room.

Michelle smiled as she stepped in. "Thank-you."

"I'll be outside if you need anything, someone from maternity should be down shortly to do a scan," and with that she left, heading back over towards the nurses station.

Entering the room Michelle stopped her eyes travelling over the sleeping form of her closest friend, an oxygen mask sat over her nose and mouth as IV lines and monitors snaked out from under the covers, sitting down she held her hand, quietly reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. Because despite Rob's earlier protests to the contrary she needed to believe that things would work themselves out in the end. For the sake of Carla and her unborn son or daughter she knew that someone needed to have hope no matter how hopeless the situation might seem.

"The baby," Carla panicked, her eyes suddenly shooting up as she attempted to sit up. "Oh my God the baby?"

"The baby is fine," Michelle reassured her, tightening her grip on Carla's hand as she helped her lie back down. "The heartbeat was strong and steady throughout, but someone form maternity will be down soon to do a follow up scan to completely put your mind at ease."

Watching as Carla, pulled off the oxygen mask Michelle pushed her hair back from her face. "It's you I'm worried about."

"If the baby's fine then so am I," Carla insisted, resting her hand on her still flat stomach.

"I'd love to believe that but-"

Moving Michelle's hand so that it was also resting on her stomach Carla smiled. "No buts. Whatever is happening with me and Peter ends here, I nearly lost my little baby and I can't let that happen again. I can do this Michelle … yes I wish we were doing it together but that's not going to happen now. I'm all he or she has and I need to be strong, I can't worry about Peter … or the police, let them do what they have to do. I didn't kill Tina. I didn't and right now that and the fact that my baby has a strong, steady heartbeat is all I need."

"Ok," Carla smiled. Knowing that Carla needed her on side.

"I'm going to be a mum," Carla whispered.

"I know," Michelle nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Looking down at their hands Carla couldn't help but smile. "I never, ever thought that I would want this but I do. Oh God 'Chelle I really want this and I didn't even realise how much until I thought I was losing it."

"Hello," a short, grey-haired woman greeted as she pushed an ultrasound machine into the room.

Letting go of Michelle's hand Carla looked up at the doctor. "Hi."

"Is now a good time?" she asked, plugging in the machine.

Carla nodded. "Now's the perfect time."

"I'm Doctor Marr one of the obstetricians on staff here and I'll be overseeing your pregnancy along with the midwife from now on," she explained as she started typing some information into the ultrasound.

Despite what she said earlier about doing it alone Carla couldn't help but wish that Peter was here with her instead of Michelle. She loved her best friend but Peter was the father of her child, the life growing inside her was just as much his as it was hers.

"My hus … Peter … the father … he's outside," Carla stammered, her heart and head battling amongst themselves.

"Would you like to wait for him?" Dr Marr asked.

Carla nodded, her heart winning out. "Yes. Michelle can you-"

"I'll get him," Michelle agreed knowing that no matter what she thought about him if Carla wanted Peter there for the scan then she needed to respect her friends decision.

Carla grabbed her hand gently as she got up to leave. "Thank-you."

Just minutes after Michelle left the room Peter entered, shuffling his weight nervously from one foot to the other as he stood cautiously at the end of the bed.

"Is everything ok?" he asked.

"I'm just about to have a scan, I thought you might like to see the baby," Carla explained as she lifted up her gown, wincing at the pain in her stomach from the surgery.

The doctor helped Carla find a more comfortable position before starting the scan. "You won't be able to see anything from there Dad."

"I-"

"She's right," Carla pointed out.

Taking that as his cue Peter moved to the seat, sitting down just inches away from Carla as he turned towards the screen, gripped by the fuzzy black and white images that began to take form until there it was, the unmistakable sight of his and Carla's child resting safely inside, oblivious to all of the drama that existed around it.

"Is everything alright?" Carla breathed, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"Everything is perfect, the measurements, heart rate and fluid levels show that your pregnancy is progressing right on track," Dr Marr explained as she took them through what they were looking at.

Peter felt like he couldn't breath, suddenly the reality of what he was faced with losing was staring right at him and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

"Can you tell if it's a boy or girl?" Carla asked, watching her child's heartbeat on the screen, the steady rhythm making her feel more relaxed than she had in weeks.

Dr Marr moved the wand slowly across her stomach. "Well the little one here certainly isn't shy."

"Does that mean you know?" Carla wondered.

Nodding Dr Marr smiled. "Would you like to know?"

"Yes. No. Yes," Carla answered.

"Well which one is it?" Dr Marr chuckled. "Yes or no?"

"Yes," Carla answered, realising that after all of the terrible surprises of recent weeks it would be nice to have a pleasant revelation. "That's if you want to know too?" she added, clearly addressing Peter even though her gaze never left the screen.

Peter nodded. "Yes. Please."

"Congratulations Mum and Dad, you're having a little girl," she informed the stunned parents, pausing the screen on a full view of the tiny little girl that despite all the odds she had already faced was growing strong in her mother's stomach.

"A little girl," Carla breathed, tears falling silently down her cheeks. "Can you believe that the two of us made something so perfect?"

Standing up the doctor wiped the gel from Carla's stomach. "I'll give the three of you a little while alone," she smiled as she headed out of the room.

Lost for words Peter did the only thing he could as he nodded, reaching out for Carla he stroked his hand across her exposed stomach.

"Don't," Carla warned, breaking the moment.

"But I thought-"

"What that I'd forgiven you?" Carla asked bitterly.

Peter nodded, knowing how stupid it sounded but wanting to believe that there was a chance. "Yes."

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for what you've done to me Peter," Carla began, trying to keep her tone as even as possible, terrified that the little-girl inside her might be able to pick up on the tension of her mother, because more than anything else in the world she wanted her daughter to stay innocent and unharmed by the actions of her parents for as long as physically possible.

"But this little-girl was created out of love," she continued, running lazy circles across her stomach. "And nothing will ever change that and I don't want her to ever have any reason to believe any different so I want you in her life … but only if you stay sober … and only in her life, the only connection we have left is as the mother and father to this little baby, anything else is gone. You saw to that when you started your dirty little affair with Tina," she finished, pulling her hand away from his and pulling the blanket around her, almost as if she was attempting to create a barrier between them.

Peter shook his head, unwilling to believe that it really was the end for his marriage. "Carla, you and me-"

"There is no you and me," Carla argued.

"Carla-"

Turning her head away from him Carla closed her eyes. "I need you to leave."

"Not until we've talked," Peter insisted.

"I've got nothing to say to you," Carla replied.

Peter knew that he was banging his head against a brick wall, and he also knew that Carla had every right to be saying what she saying but he wasn't prepared to give up, not when he had more than ever before to fight for. "Carla please just-"

"If you're not out of this room in 10 seconds I will call security," Carla warned.

"Please. Carla. Just give me a chance to explain," Peter cried, desperate for the chance to be heard.

"1. 2. 3 …"

Standing up Peter held his hands in a surrender pose. "Ok," he relented. "But I'm not giving up Carla, that little-girl inside you is a living symbol of everything that was right between us and everything that we can make right again, and as long as I live I will not stop fighting for you. For us. For our family; you, me and our beautiful, perfect little-girl."


	3. Chapter 3

I know this chapter is shorter than the rest and nothing really happens but I felt I needed it rather than doing a massive time jump. Thank you for all of the lovely reviews.

3.

Walking into Carla's hospital room Michelle sat the overnight bag down on the floor, watching as her friend pulled herself into a sitting position she looked around at the large bouquets of flowers.

"You starting a florist?" Michelle joked.

"Peter," Carla sighed, rolling her eyes. "The nurses keep promising to get rid of them but I think it's been quite busy out on the ward."

Michelle sat down in the chair. "Want me to get rid?"

"I suppose," Carla shrugged. "You're not supposed to have flowers in a hospital anyway, something about spores and bacteria," she added.

"Has he been around again?" Michelle asked.

Carla shook her head. "Not since the scan last night."

"You were sleeping when Rob and I came back in, your fever was still pretty high and the nurse said you'd probably be out of it for the rest of the night," Michelle said, feeling the need to explain why she hadn't come back last night.

"It's ok," Carla reassured her friend. "I don't need babysitting 24 hours a day."

Michelle nodded. "I know. I just didn't want you to wake up alone."

"I didn't," Carla assured her.

"I thought you said Peter didn't come back?" Michelle frowned.

Carla pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing as her stomach pulled. "He didn't, Rob was here, I don't think he'd left so I forced him to go home and shower. Told him me was stinking the place out."

"Little brother's protective streak is out in full force," Michelle joked.

"Yeah," Carla sighed.

Michelle watched as she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "Why do I get the feeling you're not too happy about that?"

"It's just he hates Peter … like really, really hates him," Carla worried.

"With good reason. The way Rob sees it he has no loyalty to Peter, his only priority is you and after everything Peter has put you through he's well within his rights to hate him," Michelle summarised, not quite sure what Carla's issue was.

Carla rested her hand on the stomach. "But no matter what has happened he's still the father of my baby and I don't want her to be born into a world where there's so much hate."

"Her?" Michelle stammered, not quite sure she had heard Carla properly.

"Yeah," Carla smiled. "We found out last night. It's a little girl. I'm having a little girl."

Unable to contain her excitement Michelle practically jumped out of her chair as she wrapped her arms around her friend, being careful not to cause her any pain. "Oh Carla. A little girl. A mini Carla. That's amazing."

"It makes it all seem so real. I'm going to be someone's mother," Carla whispered.

"I know," Michelle grinned.

Running her hand across her stomach in lazy circles Carla mirrored her smile. "I never thought I could do this 'Chelle but now she's here, growing inside me I really want it, I want her."

"You'll be a great mum," Michelle assured her.

"I'm going to try my best," Carla vowed. "Which is all I can do is try my best for her, I never had that, I never had a mother that put me first but it's not going to be like that for her. Starting now she has to come first which is why no matter what's happened I could never completely hate Peter, he's her father and that will always mean something. Even if we're not together anymore."

Michelle looked up at her friend. Her eyes wide with alarm. "Please tell me you're not thinking of taking him back?"

"No," Carla insisted. "I made that crystal clear last night but I want my daughter to have a father and … he needs to clean up, stay sober and fight for her but if he does that then I won't keep her from him. I couldn't … she'd only end up hating me in the future for it."

"He's a mess Carla," Michelle pointed out.

Carla looked across at the scan photo that sat on her bedside table. "I know. But he has so much to fight for. Simon and this little girl they need him and I know deep down he knows that. He has to know that."

"But Tina, what if-"

"He's not a murderer Michelle," Carla said, her voice strong and full of conviction. "Despite what I may have said previously I know in my heart that he's not capable of that. He gave me my life back after Frank and there's no way that the man who did that could have taken the life of someone else, no matter how angry or drunk he might have been."

"Ok," Michelle agreed.

Carla eyed her friend. "But?"

"I didn't say anything," Michelle hedged.

"You didn't have to," Carla replied.

Michelle looked down at the ground, not wanting to see her friend's face as she spoke. "I know you didn't do it. And if you're right and Peter didn't kill her then who did? Who else had reason enough to kill Tina."

"I don't know Michelle," Carla sighed. "But I know that I didn't kill her and for the sake of my little girl I have to believe that the truth will be enough because otherwise there's no way I'll get through this. If I even for a second allow myself to believe that I could go down for this, that I'll have to give birth to my little girl in prison and then have social services take her away I won't be able to breath. I won't 'Chelle … so I can't. I can't think about that. Not now. Not ever."

"Besides you have more important things to think about," Michelle said. "Like choosing a name for your beautiful little girl"

Carla smiled, lazily tapping her fingers on her barely there bump. "I have 20 weeks to think about that."

"I know, but there's no harm in making a short list," Michelle prompted.

"I might have a few," Carla finally admitted.

Leaning her elbows on the bed Michelle rested her head in the palm of her hands. "Do you remember when we were kids."

"Vaguely," Carla smiled.

"We must have been like what 7? 8? And we went to the summer fair at school, they had that competition where you had to chose the name of the doll and if you got it right you won the doll, do you remember what names we chose?" Michelle asked, recalling a time decades ago.

Chuckling gently Carla nodded. "Yeah. You thought her name was Alice, which if I recall correctly was what Ryan was going to be called if he was a girl."

"Yeah, I never wavered from that name," Michelle remembered. "And you chose .."

"Francesca, I called the doll Francesca," Carla answered.

"And you won," Michelle continued. "But the minute you got the doll you shortened her name to Frankie, chopped off all her hair and turned her dress into a pair of dungarees, you were such a tomboy right until you hit puberty."

Laughing Carla soon regretted it as her stomach began to ache. "Sometimes I forget I just had surgery."

"You need to take it easy," Michelle warned.

"Yes Mum," Carla said, her voice light and teasing.

Michelle poured herself a glass of water. "So is Frankie still on the short list."

"Nah," Carla sung, screwing up her nose.

"Are you going to tell me what is?" Michelle wondered.

Lifting her eyebrows in a teasing manner Carla shook her head. "Nope."

"That's cruel," Michelle sulked.

"I know," Carla agreed.

Lightly nudging her friend Michelle rolled her eyes. "I guess I'll just have to wait 20 weeks to find out."

"Yes you will," Carla laughed as she nudged her friend back before taking the cup of water from her and finishing it off.

"Have they mentioned when you might get out of here?" Michelle asked, changing the subject once again.

Carla sighed, leaning back against the pillow. "Probably not for a few days, apparently I have to have IV antibiotics until they are sure the infection is totally out of my system."

"Want me to bring anything else in for you?" Michelle offered.

"Something to read," Carla replied, putting the now empty cup down.

"Magazine or book?" Michelle queried.

Carla raised her eyebrows. "When was the last time you knew me to finish a book?"

"Magazines it is," Michelle laughed.

"Could you also speak to Sally, ask her to take over the factory for me until I get back," Carla asked, needing to know that her business would be ok, because it wasn't just her future that depended on the income it created it was her daughter's too.

Lifting her head from her hands Michelle poured another glass of water. "Actually I was thinking I might step in, take over until you're ready to come back."

"You don't have to do that," Carla said, not wanting Michelle to put her life on hold.

"I know," Michelle assured her. "But I want to, besides I had fun working there with you and I've managed the factory on my own before," she reminded her friend.

Carla rested her hand on top of Michelle. "You more than managed it. You saved it."

"Well then that's settled," Michelle insisted. "I'll take over Underworld until you're ready to come back. Besides you don't want to give Sally too much power it will just go to her head and that's the last thing anyone wants."

"Oh God could you imagine it," Carla laughed, tears streaming down her face.

"It would be the creation of a monster," Michelle agreed.

"That we would be unleashing on the world," Carla added.

The light moment between the two friends was interrupted by the shrill ringing of a mobile phone.

"It's not mine," Michelle shrugged.

"It's mine," Carla frowned. "I forgot to turn it off."

Reaching down onto the floor Michelle picked up her bag, taking the phone out she handed it to her. "It's Peter."

"Leave it," Carla instructed.

"Want me to turn your phone off?" Michelle offered.

Carla nodded. "Yeah."

Taking the phone from Michelle she put it under her pillow, out of sight, out of mind in the hope that Peter would take her refusal to the answer the phone as a sign she wasn't ready to talk again yet.

"Are you ok," Michelle asked.

Carla shook her head. "But I will be."

"Want me to speak to him?" Michelle suggested.

"No," Carla sighed. "He'll get the message eventually."

Emptying the overnight bag into the small cupboard Michelle leaned back in the chair. "I hope so. For your sake."

"He probably just wants to make sure the baby is ok," Carla reasoned.

"He knows the baby is ok," Michelle reminded her.

Carla let out a long, slow, breath. "At least he's making an effort."

"Why are you defending him?" Michelle wondered.

"I'm not," Carla insisted. "But on the other hand I'm also not going to take everything he does and assume it's part of some big, evil plan. He was really affected by seeing the baby last night, finding out it's a girl … I don't know, I think it might have been just the push he needed to see how much he's spiralled out of control."

Michelle blinked slowly. "Great. So next time Peter goes off the rails we just have to plan a near death experience to bring him back. Got it."

"'Chelle," Carla warned.

"I'm sorry," Michelle apologised. "It's just you were sick Car. Really, really sick and I don't think just because Peter was concerned it means you should let him in."

Taking a deep breath Carla mentally braced herself. "I'm not. Peter and I are over. He knows that and I know that. But like I said before this is his daughter too and I want him to get better, I want him to find a way not just for her, or for Simon but for himself too because if he doesn't then … he'll die 'Chelle, his body it can't take anymore and I don't want that. I don't want him back but I don't want him dead either."


	4. Chapter 4

I just want to say a MASSIVE thank-you for all of the reviews, each and every one of them is very much appreciated.

4.

Sitting at the edge of the bed Carla played nervously with the corner of her discharge papers, her emotions all over the place. After 15 days, 3 hours and 46 minutes sat in the same hospital room, staring at the same 4 walls with the same thoughts going round and round in her head she thought she would be happy to go home.

However now that the moment was here she couldn't help but dread walking back onto the street, everything was safe here. She had a schedule set out by the doctors and nurses, they woke her up, told her when to eat, gave her the medication she needed to rid her body of the infection that had almost taken not only her life but that of her unborn child.

At home it was a different story, at home she was alone.

Peter was gone, her marriage was over and she didn't know where to go from here. There was no road map, no how to guide or advice column, instead all she had was her own instincts. The very same instincts that she had spent the past 2 weeks fighting. Every time her phone rang and Peter's name flashed up on the screen she could almost see the angel and devil arguing on her shoulder.

Answer it.

Don't answer it.

He's just ringing for an update on you and the baby.

He can ring the nurses, they'll tell him.

He still loves you.

He never loved you.

He's sorry for what he did.

No matter how sorry he is it will never make things right.

Shaking her head Carla silently willed them away, desperate for her heart and head to get on the same page, to both stand together and tell her what she should do.

"You all set?" Rebecca, a young nurse with honey-brown hair asked.

Carla nodded, her smile too tight. "Yeah."

"Have you got any questions about what the doctor said?" Rebecca questioned, taking the final IV out of the older woman's hand.

Slowly Carla shook her head. "No."

"And you remember her instructions?" Rebecca asked. "Because I know she'd be more than willing to come back, go over it with you again," she offered.

Smiling Carla again shook her head. "Nah. Thanks. I've got it all; lots of fluids, plenty of rest, don't push myself too hard, if it starts to hurt it's my bodies way of telling me to slow down, any cramping, vomiting or bleeding them I'm to come straight to maternity."

"Also if you notice your temperature is going up again then come straight back," Rebecca added, taking a last set of vital signs. "That infection of yours was very stubborn, you've been on some powerful antibiotics for a while now so there's always the chance that now you're only on oral antibiotics it will launch a sneak comeback."

"I'll be watching for it," Carla reassured the nurse as the blood pressure cuff was removed from her arm. "So do I get top marks?" she joked, referring to her vitals.

Rebecca nodded. "Everything is exactly as it should be."

"Good because me and the little one here are ready to ditch this joint," Carla laughed, resting her hand on her stomach. "No offence," she added, smiling towards the young nurse who had become a regular fixture in her hospital room during her stay.

"None taken," Rebecca assured her. "And you know I mean nothing but the best when I say this but I hope we never see this again until you're the size of a house and ready to have that baby."

Carla reached out and took the nurses hand in hers. "Thank you. You cheeky-"

"Now, now," Rebecca teased. "Not with young ears in the room."

"Honestly, thank-you," Carla whispered, handing the nurse a gift bag and card. "You've been an absolute star."

Taking the present Rebecca nodded, she'd grown rather fond of her sharp-mouthed, sometimes difficult but always entertaining patient over the last 2 weeks. "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

Nodding Carla pushed herself to her feet, although she had been walking around the ward, and yesterday had even taken a stroll to the gift shop to pick up the gifts her legs still felt weak with disuse.

"Is someone picking you up?" Rebecca asked.

"My brother should be here any minute now," Carla replied, doing one last search of the cupboards to make sure she had not forgotten anything.

Rebecca helped her lift the bag onto the bed, and fasten it up. "Good."

"I'll just head outside, meet him by the entrance," Carla offered, not wanting to take up the hospital bed any longer than she already had.

"You're more than welcome to wait here," Rebecca offered.

Carla flashed the nurse a knowing smile. "Oh Yeah."

"It's cold outside," Rebecca shrugged.

Carla raised her eyebrows. "It's pushing 20 out there."

"You shouldn't be on your feet for too long," Rebecca insisted, trying to hide her blush.

Carla laughed, running her hand through her hair. "You just want one last perve at my baby brother."

"Don't be so outrageous," Rebecca stammered. "That would be totally unprofessional," she added with a wink.

Walking over Carla rested her hand on the young girls shoulder. "Between you and me I'd much rather he hooked up with you than that crazy witch he's with," she whispered, her voice light and teasing as she tried not to think about the drama that was waiting for her when she finally got back to the street.

Shaking her head Rebecca lightly directed her towards the door. "Go on you. Get out of here."

Stopping at the door Carla watched as Rob made his way down the hall. "Really though; thank you, all of you."

"You all set?" Rob asked as he spotted his sister.

"Yep," Carla said. "My bags on the bed when you're ready."

Shaking his head Rob laughed, pleased to see some of the fight back in her. "Yes Madam."

"And don't take all day about it," Carla continued with a laugh. "It's almost 3 o'clock which means it's been a whole 2 hours since you're niece and I have eaten."

Walking over to the bed Rob muttered to himself. "There's only another 4 months of this to go," as he picked up her bag and made his way back out to where she was waiting.

"You get everything you need?" Rob asked, not wanting to make a return trip later when she realised she'd forgotten something.

"Yep," Carla assured him, holding up a prescription bag.

Rob nodded resting his hand on the small of her back. "Good. Now let's get out of here."

- 0 -

As Rob pulled the car up outside the flat Carla felt her heart rate almost double in speed. Being in the hospital as tough as it had been had been like living inside a bubble, the police had left her alone, Peter had kept away; except for the 27 missed calls and 14 voicemail messages from him, and there had been no neighbours gossiping and pointing the fingers.

The respite had allowed her to focus all of her strength on getting better, making sure she ate 3 meals a day and got enough sleep, everything she needed to do to ensure she remained as healthy as possible for the sake of her unborn daughter.

"You alright?" Rob asked, sensing her distress.

"Yes," Carla lied.

Rob could hear the uncertainty in her voice. "Carla," he warned.

"No really I am," Carla insisted. "It's just being back here … where everything happened … in the hospital, away from it all I could almost convince myself it was nothing but a horrible nightmare but right here, in the centre of it all … there's no hiding. My husband really did cheat. My marriage really is over. Tina really is dead. And people really think I killed her," Carla sighed, as the heavy weight of reality crashed down around her.

Rob took her hand in his. "If anyone can get through this. You can."

"I don't really have a choice do I?" Carla smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. "For her sake I have to."

"I'm here, whatever you need I'm here for you, for both of you," Rob vowed.

Carla nodded. "I know. And we both really appreciate it."

"You ready?" Rob asked, motioning towards the flat.

Taking a deep, steadying breath Carla nodded. "As I'll ever be."

"Michelle said she'd be round shortly," Rob said, as he lifted her bags from the back seat and locked up the car, looking around he let out a sigh of relief when he realised there was no one around as he'd half been expecting Peter to be camped outside.

"You looking for someone?" Carla asked.

Rob shrugged. "Just making sure the coast was clear."

Nodding knowingly Carla linked her arm with his as she allowed him to help her towards the flat. Although she had been given a clean bill of health by the hospital she still tired easily, the infection had really done a number on her body and she knew it would take her a while yet to get back to complete strength.

"Have you seen him?" Carla wondered, knowing that Rob would know who she was talking about without her having to stay his name.

Rob nodded, his eyes clouding over with anger. "Yeah. Unfortunately we're living under the same roof."

"And how is he?" Carla asked.

"None of your concern, not anymore," Rob steamed, taking out her keys and opening the door.

Carla looked at her brother, her eyes narrow in warning. "Rob. Please. He's-"

"Sober," Rob finally admitted, the word almost sticking in his throat. "At least he appears to be, I haven't seen him with a drink since-"

"I collapsed in the street," Carla finished for him.

Rob nodded. "Yeah."

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs Carla faced Rob. "Look don't think I don't appreciate everything you've done for me because I do. I really, really do but I've just spent the last 2 weeks surrounded by people I can't wait to spend some time by myself, now I've been cleared from a healing point of view I'm desperate to spend a very long time, soaking in a very hot bath."

"Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me to get lost?" Rob laughed.

Resting her hand on his arm Carla nodded. "Yep."

"Ok, ok," Rob relented. "I know how to take a hint."

"Thank you," Carla said, reaching over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Rob motioned to the bag in his hands. "You want me to take this up for you first?"

"I can manage," Carla assured him, taking the bag from him she waited until he was outside before closing the door behind her. Putting the bag down she leaned against the door, taking a series of calming breaths before slowly making her way up the stairs.

Why she hadn't been lying when she told Rob she wanted to be alone, she couldn't help but fear that even when she was surrounded by people she would still feel alone anyway.

"At least I've always got you," she whispered, as she entered the flat.

Heading straight for the bathroom she put the plug in before turning the hot water on, selecting a lavender scented bath oil she poured a little of it in before moving over to the fall length mirror. Wiping it clear of the steam that was starting to cloud the shiny surface. Stepping back she stripped off her clothes so that she was totally naked, turning sideways a small smile crept across her lips as she rested her hand on the small, yet clearly visible baby bump that seemed to pop up over night.

"A little bit bigger, a little bit stronger," she whispered, cradling the bump.

Turning to face the mirror she was immediately struck by how much her body had changed, changes that months ago only lived in her nightmares but now that motherhood was a reality she found herself embracing them, the small bump, the swollen breasts and the widening of her hips.

Closing her eyes she tried to imagine what her little girl would look like, would she have Peter's brown eyes or her shade of green? Would she have her father's smile or would she have her mother's fuller lips? Either way she couldn't wait to meet her, to hold in her arms and watch her grow.

Shaking her head she ran her hand over her silhouette, there was definitely no mistaking the fact she was pregnant now, she no longer looked like she'd had a big meal, instead despite the paleness of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes she had the clear glow of a pregnant woman.

Stepping back she turned the hot water off and sat down on the edge of the bath, waiting for the water to cool down before stepping in.

35 minutes, a hair wash and a long soak later she stepped out of the bath, standing in front of the mirror she was unable to resist taking another look at the image of her pregnant form, her stomach a growing reminder that her daughter was hanging on, that despite everything else she had lost in her life she still had her little girl.

"We're gonna be alright you and me," she vowed.

As if the little girl had heard her mother Carla was rewarded with a tiny fluttering deep within her stomach. At first she thought she was imagining things, but then she felt it again and she was unable to stop the small gasp that escaped her lips as the fluttering continued, it was almost as if her little girl was trying to reassure her mother that she wasn't alone.

"I love you so much already," Carla whispered as she grabbed a towel from the pile and wrapped it and around her hair, not bothering to cover her body she stepped out into the living area, not noticing the lone figure that sat at the table.

"Oh my God," Peter gasped as he looked up, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him as Carla stood in the doorway of the bathroom, the light behind her illuminating her very naked and very pregnant body.

Stepping back into the bathroom Carla grabbed her dressing gown off the back of the door and covered herself up, while she was steadfast in her resolve to allow Peter to be a part of their daughter's life her naked body was not a part of that equation, he gave up any rights he had to her body when he shattered their marriage vowels.

"What are you doing here?" Carla growled.

"I don't know," Peter admitted.

Carla took a few tentative steps towards him. "Are you drunk?"

"No," Peter answered, looking up from the table, hoping that she would be able to see the truth in his eyes. "That I do know for sure. I haven't had a drink in 14 days, 6 hours and," looking at his watch he quickly did the maths. "26 … no 27 minutes."

Genuinely relived Carla nodded. "I'm really pleased for you Peter."

"It's not been easy," Peter admitted. "Every morning when I wake up I want a drink, and every night when I'm lying in bed I want to have a drink but I don't and do you know why?"

Carla shook her head. "But I'm sure you're about to tell me."

Standing up Peter moved so he was stood just a few feet away from her. "Because I want this more. You. Me. Simon. And our little girl. That's what gets me up in the morning and keeps me from the drink, I go to sleep at night with a copy of your scan, our wedding photo and a picture of Simon by my bed and that helps me stay sober. You keep me sober Carla."

"I can't be your touchstone Peter," Carla whispered.

"I'm not-"

Carla held up her hands. "Yes you are, you're asking me to save you, to be you're light in the darkness or whatever else it is they go on about in AA. But I can't be that, not anymore Peter, I have to concentrate on me, on getting myself through this and on our little girl, on making sure I stay healthy so she stays healthy and right now that's all I can think about because anything else is more than I can deal with right now."

"I'm sorry," Peter apologised.

"I don't need you to be sorry," Carla told him. "Not anymore. That ship has sailed, right now I just need you to stay sober and to respect my boundaries."

Peter too held up his hands. "I'm sorry. It's just when I heard you were coming home today I needed to see you, to see with my own eyes that you were ok."

"I'm ok," Carla reassured him. "But I still need you to leave."

Reluctantly Peter nodded. "You look more than ok Carla. You look amazing, pregnancy really suits you … that little bump … where our daughter's growing … you're br-"

"Don't," Carla warned. "You don't get to look at me like that, to think about me in that way, you gave up those rights the minute you even considered starting anything with Tina. So stop, stop looking at me like that because right now I just … I need you to leave."

"I really am sorry," Peter whispered, his voice heavy with regret and his eyes dark with unshed tears.

Carla swallowed in a bid to try and stop her own voice from breaking. "I know you are. But it's not enough Peter. Not this time."


	5. Chapter 5

5.

"My name is Peter and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hello Peter," everyone chorused turning to face him.

Shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other Peter looked at the ground before speaking. "It's been 14 days and almost 11 hours since I last had a drink and about a second since I last wanted one."

"I've been on and off the wagon many times before but never have I fallen off as spectacularly as this before. You see I had everything, a beautiful wife, an amazing son, we had a home together, a business together … we had everything but I screwed it all up, I hit the self destruct button and I cheated on her, just a few heartbeats into our married life together I started a relationship with my son's babysitter."

The whole room was silent waiting for him to continue. "I didn't love her and I know how bad that sounds that I ruined everything I had for something that didn't mean … that I didn't … but I did and now I've lost everything, my wife is pregnant, she's having a little girl and because of my actions I have to stand on the sidelines and watch as she gets bigger. I'll probably never get to feel my daughter kick, to see the way my wife's body is changing everyday, I don't get to hold her, to look after her-"

Stopping Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. "My wife has been really sick for the last 2 weeks, she's been in hospital and I couldn't be there, because of my own actions I couldn't help her, look after her and … she hates me, my son hates … I hate me."

"But I'm not ready to give up," he continued. "Today I saw her, I saw her perfect little bump and it made me realise how that's my life, my wife, my son and my unborn daughter are my everything. I can live without the drink, I can get out of bed and get through each day without it but I can't live without my family."

- o -

Pulling the curtains back Carla looked out into the street, at the crazy time of 5 o'clock in the morning she had been woken up by the need to pee, unable to go back to sleep she'd made a pot of decaffeinated coffee, cleared out the fridge, ordered a months worth of groceries online and opened the 2 weeks worth of mail that had piled up.

With all of that done she'd showered, blow dried her hair and was now finishing her second cup of coffee as she mentally tried to prepare herself for stepping out into the world.

Putting her empty cup in the sink she rinsed it out before walking over to the door, pulling on her coat she stood at the top of the stairs, taking a series of deep breaths she plastered on a smile and stepped outside, her hand resting on her bump, needing the strength that her daughter's presence gave her.

"Time to face the world baby girl." she whispered as she opened the door and stepped out.

Walking across to the café she pushed the door open, holding her head high and looking stronger than she felt.

"Bacon sandwich and a tea please," she asked, before also asking Anna to put together the factory worker's usual collection of cakes.

"To eat in or go?" Anna asked.

"To go. Please," Carla smiled tightly.

Waiting over by an empty table Carla tried to look anywhere but at the people that walked in and out of the room, taking her order from Anna she thanked the other woman before walking out on to the street, almost running straight into Leanne and Simon.

"Leanne. Hello," Carla stammered.

"Carla," Leanne greeted.

Carla could feel Leanne's eyes looking her up and down before settling on her very noticeable baby bump. "You look well."

"I'm doing ok," Carla admitted, looking down at Simon, noticing that the young boy seemed to be looking everywhere but at her.

"It's a teacher training day," Leanne explained.

Carla nodded. "Does he know," she mouthed. "About the …" she added, resting her hand on her baby bump.

Leanne nodded. "Peter told him."

"Right," Carla said, her voice barely audible.

"Things are complicated right now Carla, he's just a kid, he doesn't really know how he feels about anything," Leanne sighed, despite her hard feelings towards the other woman in the past she couldn't help but feel for her with everything she was going through at the moment.

Simon looked up from the ground. "I can talk for myself," he hissed.

"I know you can Si," Leanne reassured the youngster.

"Did you kill Tina?" Simon asked, looking up at his stepmother.

Admiring his bluntness Carla shook her head. "No."

"Ok," Simon nodded.

Confused by his reaction Carla frowned. "Ok?"

Simon shrugged. "What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," Carla admitted.

"Dad says you're having a baby, his baby, my little brother or sister," Simon said, changing the subject.

Carla nodded. "Little sister."

"It's a girl?" Simon asked, showing interest for the first time since he had heard about the pregnancy.

"Yeah," Carla smiled.

"Cool. I wanted it to be a girl," Simon exclaimed.

Watching as the little boy allowed himself to smile Carla couldn't help but feel reassured by his reaction. "Yeah. Cool."

"When she's born can I meet her?" Simon questioned suddenly uncertain of his role in his little sister's life.

"Of course," Carla reassured the young boy. "You're her big brother, she'll need you around to teach her all sorts of cool stuff."

Simon nodded. "Stuff that old people aren't cool enough to know."

"Are you calling me old?" Carla teased.

"No," Simon laughed. "Well, maybe."

Laughing too Carla ruffled his hair affectionately. "Cheeky."

"I'm sorry that he lied to you," Simon whispered, hating that his dad had torn things apart all over again, just when he was getting used to Carla being a part of his life.

"I'm sorry he lied to you too," Carla said.

Simon looked down at the ground. "Do you think he's sorry?"

"Yeah Si, I do," Carla sighed.

"Are you going to forgive him?" Simon asked.

Carla didn't want to lie to the little boy but at the same time she didn't want to give him false hope. "I don't know Si. Maybe one day."

"Will he still be the baby's dad?" Simon wondered, genuinely confused about where everybody stood right now.

"Nothing will ever change that, just like nothing will ever change the fact that he'll always be your dad," Carla reassured him.

Nodding Simon kicked his feet against the ground, watching as a small rock skirted across the floor. "I can't wait to meet her."

"Me either," Carla agreed.

"Can I come around and watch a movie one night? We never got around to watching Despicable Me 2," Simon reminded her.

Carla smiled, her eyes watering over. "I'd like that. Er … if it's ok with Leanne that is?"

"Yeah. It's fine," Leanne agreed, pleased for Simon's sake that he seemed to be building bridges with Carla as it would make things easier when the baby came along.

"Cool," Simon sung. "Can I come around tonight? Then you can take me to school in the morning," he asked.

Leanne laughed at Simon's eagerness. "That might be a bit short notice Si. And you know Carla's just got out of the hospital."

"I know," Simon said. "But I won't be any trouble in fact I could help, I can make cups of tea and all sorts," he offered.

Carla looked up at Leanne. "Tonight is good for me, that's if you don't already have plans?"

"No. Actually you'd be helping me out, I have plans tonight and I was going to ask Deidre but-"

"He can stay with me," Carla offered. "I'll even make him breakfast and take him to school," she added.

Simon grinned. "Cool," he exclaimed. Screwing up his nose he looked up at Carla. "You're going to cook?"

Leaning down Carla whispered into his ear. "It'll probably end up being the café."

"What time do you want me to drop him off?" Leanne asked.

"Er-"

"Can I come with you now?" Simon asked.

Laughing Leanne shook her head. "You have swimming plans with Aadi."

"But I want to stay with Carla," Simon sulked.

"Carla has work," Leanne argued.

Simon pouted, practically stamping his foot. "But I want to stay with her, she needs someone to look after her, she's been sick and she's having my baby sister and dad has lied and-"

Realisation dawned on Leanne as she suddenly realised how terrified the young boy was of losing yet more people her cared about.

"Si. I'm fine I promise you," Carla reassured the young boy, genuinely touched by his concern especially considering how difficult things had been between them in the beginning.

Simon nodded. "Promise?"

"Promise," Carla reassured him, placing her hand on her bump. "And so is your little sister, especially now she has her big brother looking out for her."

"I'm going to be such a great big brother," Simon vowed.

Resting her hand on his shoulder Carla smiled. "You already are."

"So what time can I come around?" Simon wondered.

Carla looked to Leanne, not wanting to give an answer that might clash with any plans they already has. "Is 6 ok for you?" Leanne asked.

"Yep," Carla agreed.

"Cool," Simon danced. "Do you still have the DVD? And do you have any popcorn? Also could we get some of those strawberry laces? Oh and the-"

Laughing Carla nudged him gently. "I'll make sure to stock up and yes, I have the DVD."

"See you at 6," Leanne smiled, genuinely touched to see how much affection Simon seemed to have for his stepmother, and hoping that the recent developing relationship between them would help to heal some of the wounds created by recent events.

Walking away Simon looked over his shoulder as he watched Carla walk towards the factory. "See you at 6."

Waving Carla walked towards the factory, her steps lighter almost as if a dark cloud had been lifted. If you'd told her a month ago that the first person to help in healing her broken heart would have been her grumpy, argumentative 11-year-old stepson she would have asked you what you were on. But now, after seeing him she couldn't help but allow herself to believe that perhaps she wouldn't be such a terrible mother after all.

Reaching the factory Carla frowned as she spotted a pink, gift-wrapped box waiting on the steps. Opening the door she put the cakes, tea and sandwich down on the nearest work surface before going back out to collect the box.

Putting it in the office she laid the cakes out in the kitchen, before grabbing her sandwich and tea and heading back into the office, taking a sip of her tea she hungrily tucked into the bacon sandwich, not realising how hungry she was until it was finished and she immediately regretted not having got a second one.

"You're going to be the end of my figure Little Miss," she laughed, tapping her fingers lazily on her bump.

Looking over at the box she fingered the tag.

'To Carla. I'll never stop believing.'

"Oh Peter," she sighed, knowing immediately who it was from.

Undoing the ribbon she dangled it in front of her before dropping it to the desk and lifting the lid off the box, looking in she found a small pink rabbit with flowery ears, inside was a small that had a letter inside.

Opening it Carla was unable to stop the tears from falling as she read the words.

'Carla (and our beautiful baby girl),

I said I'd keep my distance and I will, I won't turn up at the flat, I won't be at the factory and you won't see me in the pub, I'm taking myself away from temptation; not only to drink but I know that if I was to see you the temptation to wrap my arms around you and never let go would become too much.

I'll regret my actions to till the day I die, that because of what I've done I won't be able to wrap my arms around your growing stomach, wake up with you at 3 am when our little girl kicks, I won't be able to bring you breakfast in bed and rub your feet and I have no one but myself to blame for that.

Yesterday when I was walking back from a meeting I went passed a baby shop, I tried to imagine how different things would be if I hadn't ruined everything. You and I shopping together, filling up basket after basket with stuff for our little girl. I want to give her the world Carla.

I couldn't leave without getting her something and this little teddy was the one thing I kept going back too. I want her to always know how much I love her. I don't ever want her to have to experience the hurt and betrayal that you and Simon have suffered time and time again because of me.

I'm not going to promise you that I will never screw up again because I don't want to make promises I can't keep, but I will promise you this; I will try with every breath I take to never let you down again, to be the father my children deserve, to never succumb to the temptations of alcohol.

I don't even know why Tina happened, I had everything I could ever want or need already but it did. I can't change that, there is no reset button or magic watch that will turn back time. Just a broken hearted husband and father who has lost everything that matters and will do whatever it takes to make things right, to make you believe in me, in us again.

Yours forever,

Peter.

Putting the letter down Carla wiped furiously at her tears as she clutched the bunny tightly to her chest. Dropping her other hand to her stomach she rested her hand on her bump, cradling her unborn child. "What are we going to do Baby Girl?"


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Running out of the leisure centre Simon headed straight for Leanne, handing her his swimming bag as he headed towards the car.

"Is it 6 o'clock yet?" Simon asked.

Leanne shook her head with a chuckle. "No."

"Can I have my pocket money early?" Simon questioned as he did his seatbelt up, waiting for Leanne to get in the car.

"What do you need money for?" Leanne queried.

"Flowers," Simon replied, as if that one word explained everything.

Frowning Leanne turned to watch her son. "What do you want flowers for?"

"For Carla," Simon shrugged. "Isn't that what you do for people when they've been poorly? Buy then flowers?"

"I guess so yeah," Leanne nodded.

Simon turned in his seat so he was looking in the mirror. "So … Can I have my pocket money early then?"

"I don't see why not," Leanne agreed. "Do you want to stop off at the nice florist near the school?"

Looking down at the ground Simon went quiet. "My real mum was a florist wasn't she?"

"Yeah Buddy she was," Leanne answered.

"I don't want anyone else to die," Simon whispered.

As they stopped at the lights Leanne rested her hand on his. "No one is going to die."

"I was really horrible to Carla in the beginning … I didn't mean to be … not really, I just really wanted you and dad to get back together, but I know that's never going to happen now and I don't mind, not anymore because I still get to see you both and I like Carla, she's funny and she tries really hard to make the food I like. And she's carrying my baby sister and … I don't want anyone else to die," Simon stammered, wiping at his eyes.

"Si, Carla isn't going to die," Leanne tried to reassure the scared young boy.

Simon studied the car behind them in the mirror. "But she was really sick. Right?"

"Yeah she was," Leanne said, remembering a conversation she'd had with Michelle just a few days earlier about how close Carla had come to not only losing her baby but her life as well. "But she's better now. You saw her this morning, did she look like someone that was still really sick to you?"

Slowly Simon shook his head. "No. She just looked sad."

"She's been through a lot," Leanne reminded him.

"It's all my dad's fault," Simon growled. "He made her sad."

Leanne could see the cogs turning in the boy's head. "None of this is your fault Si."

"I know," Simon breathed. "I'd still really like to get her some flowers though, perhaps then she won't be so sad all the time, and I want to see her more often, I know she's not with dad anymore and I don't want her to be alone, I want to help her with my little sister … just not with the dirty nappies."

Leanne couldn't help but smile at her son's kind heart, a part of her aching that he had been forced to grow up way before his time. "I think she'd like that."

"And you don't mind?" Simon asked, not wanting to upset his mum.

"No," Leanne reassured him. "I know Carla and I haven't always gotten along but that's in the past, and while we will probably never be best friends again I don't want her to be sad either Si."

Simon nodded. "I love you."

"I love you too," Leanne whispered as she pulled up outside of the florists, waiting for a car to go by before letting him out onto the path.

Looking around at all of the flowers Simon frowned, picking flowers was a girl's job and he had no idea where to start.

"Can I help you?" the lady behind the counter asked.

"I need some flowers," Simon explained.

The lady smiled. "Well you've come to the right place, are they for someone special? Or a special occasion?"

"Both," Simon replied. "They're for my stepmother, she's having a baby."

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" the lady asked.

"A girl," Simon grinned. "I'm going to have a baby sister."

Walking around the counter she headed towards the front of the shop. "How about we put a custom bunch together? Lots of pink and purples?"

"Cool. I think she'll really like that," Simon agreed.

"How much would you like to spend?" the florist wondered.

Simon considered his options for a moment before replying. "All of my pocket money. So 10 pounds."

"One bunch of flowers coming up," the florist said as she quickly set about gathering a selection of stems in a variety of pinks, purples and a few white roses.

Once she was finished with the flowers she wrapped it in some pink tissue paper and tied a ribbon around it. "So what do you think?"

"I think she'll love it," Simon agreed taking the bunch of flowers from her as Leanne handed over the money.

Watching as Simon admired the flowers Leanne addressed the florist. "That bunch of flowers has got to be worth a lot more than 10 pounds?"

The florist shrugged, smiling knowingly. "He's quite the charmer."

"That he is," Leanne agreed. "Thank you, I think you've just made his day."

As they walked out to the car Simon carefully placed the flowers in between his legs. "Do you think she'll like them?"

"I think she'll love them," Leanne assured him.

"They're very girly," Simon observed. "But I guess that's ok because Carla is a girl and she's having a baby girl so girly is ok, right? Just don't tell her I picked them out she'll think that I'm girly too."

Laughing at his ramblings Leanne shook her head. "It's our little secret."

"Good," Simon hummed as he sat back in the seat watching as they headed back towards Coronation Street. "Can we go straight to Carla's flat?"

Leanne shook her head. "You promised you would have dinner with your dad," she reminded him.

Simon's mood changed in an instant. "I've changed my mind about that."

"Si-"

"I'm allowed to change my mind, you said that I didn't have to do anything I didn't want and I don't want to see him," Simon reasoned.

She didn't want to push the young boy but at the same time Leanne didn't want Simon to have to live with any regrets. "Si, he's still your dad and he's really been making an effort lately, he hasn't had a drink in weeks, he's going to meetings, he's trying to make things right."

"He wouldn't have to make things right if he didn't mess them up in the first place," Simon argued.

"I know that mate, but you promised," Leanne reminded him.

Simon folded his arms across his chest, the flowers still resting in his lap. "Fine. But just because I'm having dinner with him it doesn't mean I forgive him."

"No one is saying you have to," Leanne said, pleased that Simon was willing to make an effort.

"Good. Because I don't," Simon hissed, turning back to look out of the window.

Pulling up outside the café Leanne immediately spotted Peter stood waiting for them, a half smoked cigarette dangling between his lips.

"Sorry we're late," Leanne apologised. "We had to pick something up."

"So I see," Peter nodded, gesturing towards the flowers that Simon held tightly in his hands. "Did I forget someone's birthday?"

Simon walked straight passed his dad and into the café. "No," he mumbled under his breath.

"Ok," Peter breathed, slightly thrown by his son's bad mood, although he hadn't been expecting open arms he hadn't quite expected the pre-teens iciness either.

Sitting down at the table Simon laid the flowers down on the chair next to him. "I'll have a coffee and a ham and cheese toastie."

"Please," Leanne prodded. "And that's a no on the coffee."

"Fine, please," Simon growled.

Peter walked over towards the counter. "Has he been like this with everyone or is it just me?"

"It's just you," Leanne answered honestly.

"I feel honoured," Peter sighed, placing the order before walking back over to the table.

Simon eyed the glass of chocolate milk that Peter placed in front of him the same way a vegetarian eyed raw steak. "That's not a coffee. And I'm not a 3-year-old."

"Chocolate milk is your favourite," Peter said, handing him a straw.

"It was my favourite," Simon corrected as he looked over at the mug his dad was cradling. "So how much whiskey did you add to your coffee today?"

Leanne shot the young boy a warning. "Simon."

"It's ok Leanne, he has every right to be upset with me," Peter pointed out. "And Si … I promise you mate I haven't had a drink in over 2 weeks now."

"Am I supposed to be proud of you for that? Buy you a medal? Throw you a party?" Simon hissed, his anger bubbling over.

Genuinely shocked by Simon's animosity towards his father Leanne shook her head. "Simon there was no need for that."

Standing up Simon almost knocked his chair to the floor as he grabbed the flowers off the chair and stormed out onto the street, heading straight for Carla's flat. Running after him Leanne grabbed the young boy by the arm, being careful not to hurt him.

"Simon you know better than to run off like that," Leanne said, her voice raised in frustration.

Walking across the cobbles Peter cautiously approached his son and ex-wife. "Is everything ok?"

Letting go of Simon's arm Leanne turned to face her ex, her eyes wide in frustration. "Really Peter? Does everything look alright?"

"Si, mate-"

"Shut up," Simon shouted, stamping his foot at his dad.

Kneeling down so she was eye level with the lad Leanne placed her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to calm his temper. "You do not speak to people like that."

"He deserves it," Simon raged, turning his attention back towards Peter, his features tense with unspoken anger. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. You ruin everything. I know everyone thinks I'm just a kid but I'm not stupid, I see and I hear everything. First you ruin our family by being with Carla, then just when I've got used to things being that way and Carla being in my life you ruin that … you ruin everything and I hate you. Carla hates you and when she's born my little sister is going to hate you too."

Taking a step back Peter felt physically wounded by his son's words, he had been on the receiving end of Simon's anger before but never had his words been laced with so much venom.

"Si-"

"You don't care about what happens to anyone else do you?" Simon continued, pointing his finger towards his father. "You just do what you want to do, you said you wanted to marry Carla and spend the rest of your life with her but you obviously didn't because you slept with Tina, and now Tina's dead you want Carla back but you can't have her because you made her sad, you broke her heart and you made her sad just like you broke my heart. We could have been a family dad, my little sister could have had a family but you took that away from her too just like you took that away from me," the youngster raged, needing to get everything off of his chest.

Peter dropped to his knees. "I'm so sorry son. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I love you and I love your baby sister even though she's not here yet and I promise that I'm going to work really hard to be a dad you can be proud of."

"You've made promises you didn't keep before," Simon reminded him, almost deflating as his anger began to subside, he hadn't meant to make his dad cry he just needed him to know how much he had hurt him.

"I know," Peter agreed. "But it's different this time."

"It always is," Simon sighed.

Peter reached out towards his son. "I know mate. But it really is this time, I'm going to get better Si, and I know that anything I say right now will just be empty promises so I'm not going to, instead I'm going to show you, you'll see mate, it really is different this time."

Looking down at the flowers in his hand Simon watched as Carla exited the factory. "I don't really hate you," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "But I meant everything else," he concluded as he walked over towards Carla, leaving Leanne to help Peter to his feet.

Seeing Peter kneeling on the ground Carla felt her heart stop as she watched him stagger to his feet. "I don't believe it," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Are you drunk?"

"No," Leanne, Simon and Peter all insisted in unison.

Leanne was the first to speak again. "He really is sober Carla, I know how that must have looked but … it's complicated, him and Simon where-"

"I made him cry," Simon admitted, looking down at the ground. "I didn't mean-"

"It's ok Si," Peter assured him son. "You have every right to say what you did and I … well I needed to hear it so … it's not your fault, there's only one person to blame for this mess and that's me so … I'm sorry."

Carrying a large gift bag in her hand Carla carried it towards the flat, leaving Peter, Leanne and Simon alone to find a resolution.

"Why did you run towards Carla's flat?" Peter asked, needing to change the subject slightly.

"I'm having a sleepover with her tonight," Simon admitted.

Genuinely pleased that his wife and son were still choosing to spend time together in spite of his actions Peter smiled. "That's great son."

"I have to go," Simon mumbled, wrapping his arms around Leanne's waist as he promised to be good, brush his teeth and get ready for school without any arguments.

Walking towards the door Simon looked over his shoulder at his dad. "I really am sorry I said I hated you. I don't hate you … I just hate what you did," and with that he disappeared into the flat, leaving Peter alone to contemplate his son's words.

Rushing up the stairs Simon entered the flat. "Carla? Carla?" he called out, spotting his stepmother stood making a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry," Simon apologised, his words coming out in a rush. "I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't mean to make you think he was drinking again and I didn't mean to make him cry I just wanted him to know-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for Si," Carla reassured the youngster, not wanting the lad to blame himself for anything.

Slowly Simon put the flowers on the table as he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I-"

"Hey, like I said, no apologies, ok?" Carla said, pulling him in for a hug.

"Ok," Simon agreed.

Looking over at the counter Simon eyed the large gift bag suspiciously. "Is that for your baby?"

"Sort of," Carla smiled coyly.

"I don't-"

"Why don't you have a look," Carla suggested.

Walking over to the bag Simon lifted it down off the counter, grunting at it's weight as he carried it across to the couch he read the card. "To the greatest big brother in the world."

"It's from a little girl who is very lucky to have a fantastic big brother," Carla explained.

Simon's eyes widened. "You mean?"

"Open it," Carla ordered, sitting down on the table so she could see his face as he opened the gift.

Taking the box out of the bag Simon could hardly believe his eyes. "Oh my … wow," he exclaimed.

"Do you like it?" Carla asked.

Simon nodded his head up and down with such enthusiasm Carla was worried he was would hurt his neck. "It's brilliant I love it."

"Leanne said you wanted one and well … I wanted to get you something," Carla explained, resting her hand on her bump. "We wanted to get you something."

Putting the PS4 down on the table Simon wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you, bending down he rested his hand on top of her bump. "And thank you."

"You're more than welcome," Carla whispered.

"I'm going to be such a good big brother," Simon promised.

Wrapping her arms around him Carla rested her head on top of his. "You already are. Now are you ready to watch the movie."

"Yep," Simon sung. "Did you get the-"

Standing up Carla carried a tray over to the table. "So we have popcorn; sweet and salted, strawberry laces, crisps and chocolate."

"Awesome," Simon said, tucking straight into the treats, suddenly regretting running away from his dinner when he realised how hungry he was.

Sitting down next to him Carla put her feet up on the table, her hand subconsciously resting on her bump as Simon put the DVD in and started the movie before curling up next to her, his head resting on her side.

They were 20 minutes into the film when a loud buzzer interrupted them, pausing the movie Carla pushed herself to her feet with a groan.

"Do you think it's dad?" Simon wondered.

Carla shook her head, remembering Peter's promise to stay away. "Nah."

"Hello," Carla greeted, pushing the button.

"Mrs Barlow, it's the police," the female voice on the other end informed her.

Sighing Carla looked over at Simon as the young boy turned in his seat to see what was going on. "Come up."

Opening the door Carla braced herself against the wall. "Look," she said, as they entered, not giving them a chance to sleep. "Now really isn't a good time, I only got out of the hospital yesterday and my stepson is here, he's been through enough-"

"I'm sorry Mrs Barlow but you'll have to make other arrangements for your stepson," the detective ordered.

"I don't-"

"Mrs Barlow," the female detective began, cutting her off. "You're under arrest on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything but if you do it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court, anything you do say may be used against you," she concluded stepping closer towards the distraught pregnant woman.

Carla felt like she was stuck in a nightmare, unable to believe that this was happening just when she was starting to get back on an even footing. "You have got to be kidding-"

"Get off of her," Simon growled, watching as the police officer went to take hold of Carla's arm.

"Si," Carla breathed, not wanting to distress the boy anymore than he already had been.

Simon ignored her and continued glaring at the detective. "Let her go, she didn't do anything, she said she didn't do it and I believe her … let her go … she didn't do it … she didn't do it."

"Si," Carla repeated. "It's going to be ok, right now I need you to get my mobile out of my bag and ring Leanne, once Leanne is here then could you please ask her to ring Rob and have him contact my solicitor?"

Simon shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "They can't take you, I won't let them."

Looking down at the little boy Carla wiped away his tears. "Si I didn't kill Tina, I know that and you know that so this is all just a big misunderstanding, we have the truth buddy and that's what matters."

"Ok," Simon whispered.

Radioing for someone to come and wait with the young boy the female detective directed Carla towards the door, grateful that she wasn't resisting because the last thing she wanted to do was handcuff a pregnant woman.

"Be careful with her," Simon shouted, watching as Carla was taken away. "She's having a baby, she's got my little sister in there and she's been really sick so you have to be careful with her."

Running over to the window Simon watched as Carla was put into the car, he may have only been 11-years-old but he still knew enough to know that an already messed up situation had just got a whole lot worse.

Unable to look away Simon watched as the car backed out of the street, ignoring the young female officers words of reassurance and only looking away when he heard Leanne's voice.

"Mum," Simon cried, wrapping his arms around her, his eyes resting on the table. "I didn't even get to give her the flowers."


	7. Chapter 7

7.

The walls seemed to be closing in on Carla her eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, instead all she saw was 4 walls and a door that seemed miles away right now. The detectives had left her to wait, refusing to start the interview until her solicitor turned up.

They had however been decent enough to give her a cup of tea, that now sat cold and abandoned on the table in front of her.

Leaning her head on the table she closed her eyes, trying to block out everything else around her and concentrate on nothing but the soft fluttering in her stomach.

"I'm going to get us out of the mess, I promise," she reassured her unborn child, dropping a hand to her stomach.

Pushing the door open DS Hawthorne stepped into the room with DC Vanner close behind. "Your solicitor just called, she'll be here in a few minutes."

"And what do you suppose we all do till then?" Carla asked, lifting her head up from the table. "Hold hands and sing campfire songs?"

"This isn't a joke Mrs Barlow," DS Hawthorne warned.

Carla lifted her eyes towards the detective. "Do you see me laughing?"

"Would you like a fresh cup of tea?" Vanner asked.

"Oh I get it," Carla began. "You're the good cop and she's the bad cop, her job is to bully me into confessing to something I didn't do whilst you sit there and feed me tea and biscuits."

DS Hawthorne sat down. "This is a murder investigation Mrs Barlow."

"Please," Carla started. "Call me Carla, Barlow is just yet another reminder of my husband's infidelity."

"Ok," Hawthorne agreed. "Carla. Need I keep reminding you how serious this is?"

Carla shook her head. "Oh no Love, I'm well aware how serious this is, being cautioned and bundled out of my flat whilst I was trying to enjoy a relaxing evening watching Despicable Me 2 with my stepson delivered that message loud and clear."

"Well then perhaps now might be a good time to drop the sarcasm," Hawthorne requested.

"Yes. Sir," Carla mock saluted. "Sorry, it's a defence mechanism," she admitted.

The 2 women were interrupted as Pauline Mansell stepped into the room, not a hair out of place or wrinkle to be seen as she sat down next to Carla. "I hope you haven't been interviewing my client without me?"

"We were just getting to know each other, weren't we Carla?" Hawthorne offered.

Carla nodded, her eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah, we're old pals now," she retorted.

"Carla please, let me do the talking," Pauline suggested.

Carla turned to face her lawyer. "I have nothing to hide."

"I know," Pauline assured her. "But this isn't just the same as before, you're not here under free will this time, you've been cautioned."

"I was there," Carla sighed tiredly.

Pauline turned to address the detectives. "Now we're all here, please, do tell what evidence you think it is you have that was sufficient enough for you to drag my pregnant client down here."

"Carla, you stated in your previous interviews that Tina McIntyre was already on the ground when you arrived on the balcony, did you at any time go down to see if she was ok?" Hawthorne asked.

Carla shook her head. "No. As I have already told you multiple times I saw Tina on the ground, I screamed, Leanne and Kal arrived on the scene and checked her for a pulse and all that … I was too shocked to do anything … and then the ambulance and your crew arrived and … well you know the rest."

"So you're saying that at no point did you have contact with her body?" Hawthorne queried, continuing her line of questioning.

"No," Carla insisted.

Pulling a large A4 picture out of the folder she laid it down so Carla could see it. "Then how do you explain this?"

"It's my top," Carla frowned.

"Right," Hawthorne agreed. Pulling out another photo of the same top only magnified to show the collar Hawthorne pointed to a highlighted area. "And our labs have just confirmed that this is Miss McIntyre's blood."

Picking up the picture Carla studied it, genuinely stunned into silence as a million scenarios ran through her head, trying to figure out how Tina's blood could have gotten on her clothes, but she had no explanation for it, she hadn't touched Tina after finding her, or even gone within touching distance of her.

"I don't know," Carla admitted. "You're the detectives. You figure it out."

"Oh we already have, you see Mrs Barlow," Hawthorne said, purposefully using her married name. "I think that Tina's blood made it's way onto her clothes when you grabbed hold of the closest, solid object and you hit her."

Carla shook her head. "That didn't happen."

"Then how do you explain her blood being on your clothes?" Hawthorne asked, once again drawing Carla's attention to the picture.

Carla looked towards Pauline for guidance who instructed her that it was up to her whether or not she chose to answer. "I wish I could explain it," Carla admitted. "But I honestly have no idea how it got there."

"You must see how things look for you Mrs Barlow," Hawthorne pointed out. "You find out your husband is having an affair with the babysitter, you storm out into the pub declaring for everyone to hear that you're going to kill said baby sitter, in a rage you carry on over to her flat where you're found just a short while later looking down at her motionless body, with her blood on your clothes despite the fact you claim not have gone anywhere near her," she concluded, confronting Carla with the growing evidence against her.

Carla looked down at the picture. "You're right. It doesn't look good. But I didn't kill her."

"And all we have to back up that claim is your word," Hawthorne said. "Where as we have a file full of forensic and witness statements that lead us to the conclusion that you did in fact kill Tina McIntyre."

Pauline needed to know where this was heading. "Are you planning on formally charging my client."

"Not today. No," Hawthorne admitted.

"Right then, I suggest you release her, she's 5 months pregnant and has spent the last 2 weeks in hospital seriously ill, she needs rest," Pauline insisted.

Hawthorne looked over towards Carla. "Mrs Barlow you are free to leave, but you will however remain under caution as an official suspect and as a suspect and terms if your release you are requested to surrender your passport."

"Fine," Carla agreed, not seeing any point in arguing.

Following her solicitor outside Carla filled in the paperwork that made her officially a suspect in the murder of Tina McIntyre a crime for which she knew she was innocent and had to hope justice would prevail.

Stepping outside she took a long, deep inhale of fresh air. "It's good to be outside."

Although it had only been 7 hours since her arrest Carla felt like she had been within the 4 walls of the police station for days, her back ached, her head pounded and her eyes felt like they were coated with sandpaper.

"Carla," Pauline began.

"I didn't kill her," Carla insisted, pre-empting her solicitor's question.

Pauline faced her client. "I wasn't going to ask you that. I was however going to ask if you have any idea how the victims blood might have got onto your clothes? I know you told the police you had no idea but-"

"I was telling the truth," Carla sighed, genuinely stumped.

"Are you sure?" Pauline asked, although she believed her client's innocence she couldn't help but suspect that she was hiding something from her.

Carla nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "If I had any idea don't you think I would have said? I don't want to go down for a murder I didn't commit any more than you want to lose a case."

"Well if you think of anything," Pauline said watching as Carla walked over to the wall and sat down. "You have my number."

Carla rested her head in her hands. "I'll be sure to call," she mumbled.

"Can I give you a lift home?" Pauline offered.

Carla shook her head, slowly as if each movement hurt. "Thank you. But no, Rob should be here any minute now."

"Ok," Pauline smiled, not wanting to leave her obviously distressed client alone but sensing that company was the last thing Carla wanted right now.

Lifting her head up Carla tried to clear the fuzziness from her memory, but when she remembered back to the night it was all distorted, as if a part of her was almost stopping her from remembering clearly because if she did then she would become consumed by the pain.

One thing she did know for certain though was she didn't kill Tina, as hurt and angry as she might have been she did not take the young girls life, now all she needed to do was wait for the police to realise that.

"Carla," Rob called out, running up the stairs taking them 3 at a time.

Standing up Carla allowed herself to be enveloped by her brother, grateful for some familiarity. "It's such a mess."

"What happened?" Rob asked, taking her shaking hand in his and leading her to the car.

"They think I did it Rob, they really think I killed Tina," Carla cried, finally letting her guard down.

Rob gripped on tightly to the steering wheel as frustration and guilt raged within him. "They can't just arrest you without any proof."

"They have proof," Carla whispered, tiredly leaning her head back against the seat. "I don't know how … God I wish I did but somehow they found Tina's blood on the clothes I was wearing, and I said I didn't go anywhere near her … because I didn't … so it looks like I'm lying and I can't prove otherwise because I have no idea how it got there."

As they stopped at a red light Rob could almost picture the scenes like it was a movie playing in his mind.

Walking out to the street cloaked in blue lights and sirens.

The neighbours stood watching, speculating.

Tina's body being wheeled into the ambulance.

All eyes on Carla as the police questioned her.

His realisation that it had all been for nothing because Carla already knew about the affair.

Walking over to Carla, wrapping his arms around her as he desperately tried to protect her from what was happening even though he knew it was too late.

Tina's blood on his clothes, Tina's blood rubbing off of his clothes onto Carla as he held her tightly and promised her that everything would be ok.

A promise that he was still determined to keep even though he knew deep down that things would never be ok again. "Carla, I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault," Carla breathed, unaware of her baby brother's real involvement in her current situation.

Rob put his foot down as the light turned green. "I should have protected you better."

"You weren't to know what was going to happen," Carla reassured him.

"I knew he was no good for you," Rob growled, his eyes clouding over with rage just like they always did whenever his thoughts turned to his sister's no-good husband.

Closing her eyes Carla didn't have the energy to deal with Rob's anger, not when it was taking every bit of strength she had to put one foot in front of the other. "Please Rob, I can't deal with this right now … I just … I just want to go home, take a shower and sleep."

"I can stay, keep you company," Rob offered.

Carla shook her head. "I just need to be alone right now."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Ron argued.

Reaching out Carla rested her hand on his. "Look … I've had enough of people telling me what I can and can't do, right now I just need to be alone. I need to take control of my life."

"Ok," Rob agreed as he pulled up outside the flat, watching as Carla slowly made her way inside, concerned about what effects this recent chain of events was having on her emotional and physical health. Because if anything happened to his sister or his unborn niece then he really would never be able to forgive himself.

- o -

The street was cloaked in the darkness of morning as Carla stood by the window, watching as the milkman made his way from house to house. Now, with the rest of the world still sleeping the street was almost peaceful, void of drama, lies, hurt, betrayal and the finger of suspicion.

She knew it wouldn't last, that when people started to wake up so would the gossip, there would be no stopping the speculation as it spread from door to door like a wildfire, each person with their own theory, and each theory condemning her to a life behind bars.

"I won't let you enter the world in prison," Carla vowed, resting her hand on her stomach, unaware that just a few minutes away Peter stood in the garden of number 1, his hands clutched tightly around a mug of coffee as he watched the sun begin to make it's presence known.

He'd heard all of the gossip, how Carla had been arrested in front of Simon, held at the police station for hours before being released on bail but after that the gossip went cold, he had no idea how she was.

Was she was eating?

Was she getting enough sleep?

Was she remembering to take her antibiotics?

His concern for his wife and unborn child was life a vice grip that rendered him helpless, when his family needed him most he couldn't help them, he couldn't hold his wife in his arms and promise her it was going to be ok, he couldn't rest his hand on the swell of his unborn daughter and vow to never let anyone hurt her.

Instead he was stuck in a police cell of his own creating, locked away by his own infidelity from being with the people he loved more than life itself.

"I won't let her go down for this," Peter whispered, needing to say the words out loud.

From her place on the doorstep Eccles ears pricked up, as if the dog sensed that Peter needed someone to listen.

"I've already let them all down," Peter cried. "Simon, Carla … I won't let my little girl be born in prison," he vowed and with those words he made a decision.

Putting the cup in the sink he pulled on his jacket, determinedly he slammed the front door behind him as he headed out, walking towards the sunrise as he carried on like a man possessed until he finally reached his destination.

He'd already destroyed Carla's life once he wasn't about to let it happen again, he would make things right for her, no matter what it took.

Walking up to the desk he slammed his hand down. "I'm here to make a statement, I'm ready to confess. I did it. I killed Tina McIntyre."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Following DS Hawthorne into the interview room Peter sat down at the table, a Styrofoam cup clasped tightly in his hands as he took a sip of the luke-warm coffee.

"I'm ready to confess," Peter announced getting straight to the point.

Hawthorne sat down, resting her hands on the table in front of her. "Mr Barlow before we go any further I'd like to make you aware that making a false statement to the police is a criminal offence."

"It's not false," Peter insisted.

"Ok," Hawthorne breathed. "Well why don't we start at the beginning; if you'd like to talk us through the night Tina McIntyre was attacked."

Leaning back in his chair Peter nodded. "Tina wanted me to go away with her, she had it all planned, we were going to go to Portsmouth and start fresh down there. I agreed. I didn't really want to go but I just needed her to stop making demands so I said yes, then the day before we were supposed to go Carla had a scare with the baby, she was getting these pains and she didn't tell me, not until it got so bad that she had to go to the hospital and … well that put everything in perspective, it made me realise how much I didn't want to lose her. Carla, Simon and the baby that was what I wanted."

"But I didn't know how to tell Tina," Peter continued. "It turns out that I didn't have to because Tina walked in just as Carla was announcing her pregnancy, I followed her and we argued, she scratched me, she shouted, I told her that it was over, she shouted some more and I left. When I got back to the pub I knew it was only a matter of time before she told Carla everything so I told her myself. She was devastated … it destroyed her … and I'll never be able to make that right but …"

Peter trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I'll never be able to change the past. But I can make things right now. The truth can make things right."

"What happened after you confessed to Carla?" Hawthorne asked, prompting him to continue.

"Carla stormed out, she said she was going to confront Tina so I followed her, only when I got to the flat she wasn't there, Tina was alone. She was sat on the floor, crying and when she saw me she went mad, she was just shouting and shouting and I just wanted to get out of there and find the nearest pub but Tina was blocking the door so I went out onto the roof, I was going to have a fag and give her a chance to calm down but … she followed me," Peter lied making up a series of events that he hoped fit what had really happened.

Looking down at the table Peter wished he had a cigarette in his hand now, something to calm his nerves. "She just kept shouting and screaming at me about how I had lost everything and how pleased she was because I deserves it after what I had done to her. And she's right I did deserve it … but … she just wouldn't let it rest, she kept coming at me, digging and digging and I lost my temper, I picked up the nearest thing and I threw it. I wasn't aiming for her and she moved backwards … I think my anger scared her and then she was falling, I tried to stop her but … she fell."

"And after Miss McIntyre fell what happened then?" Hawthorne asked.

"She wasn't moving," Peter whispered. "So I panicked, I went into the flat and I tried to remove all traces that I was ever there, I grabbed a few things and messed up the flat to make it look like there was an intruder," Peter lied, not realising how close he was to the truth.

Hawthorne eyed him suspiciously. "What did you do when you left the flat?"

"Tina still wasn't moving so I walked away, I just left her there lying in the street," Peter cried his guilt at the situation eating away at him.

Hawthorne looked over at the broken man. "So you're saying that Miss McIntyre fell and that's how you killed her?"

"I didn't mean to kill her," Peter whispered. "It was an accident."

"Mr Barlow as I already warned you making a false confession can result in a prison sentence," Hawthorne once again informed him.

Peter nodded. "I know. But it's my fault, I'm the reason Tina is dead."

"Mr Barlow, Miss McIntyre was not killed by the fall, she was in fact killed by being struck around the head with a heavy object," Hawthorne said.

Sitting up straight Peter felt like he couldn't breath. "That was me too, when I er … when I threw the thing that I threw it must have hit her … I didn't think it did but …"

"Forensic evidence shows that Miss McIntyre was hit around the head with a solid object when she was already down on the ground, so Mr Barlow your story is not corroborated by the evidence because that's all it is; a story," Hawthorne declared, making it obvious she didn't believe his version of events.

"I hit her," Peter insisted. "I know I said I didn't but I did, when I got downstairs she was still alive, she kept threatening me, saying that she was going to tell everyone how I pushed her and that I would never get to see my baby or Simon or Carla ever again so I flipped, I picked up the nearest heavy thing and I hit her," he said, eerily echoing what actually had happened that fateful night only with a different person wearing the murderer's shoes.

Hawthorne's patience was beginning to wear thin, she was in the middle of a murder investigation and the last thing she needed was people wasting her time. "And what did you do with the murder weapon after you left?"

"I tossed it in the canal," Peter shrugged.

"Mr Barlow this is a murder investigation and if you continue with this farce I will have you arrested," Hawthorne warned him.

Peter sat forward in his chair. "It's my fault. I should be arrested, Tina's dead and it's all my fault, I'm the reason she's dead, I killed her."

"I understand that you may feel responsible for what happened to Miss McIntyre but you and I both know you didn't kill her, you may be guilty of a few things Mr Barlow but murder is not one of them," Hawthorne said, closing the folder in front of her.

"I need to pay, I should be the one going to prison, I'm the reason this all happened," Peter cried.

Hawthorne let the distraught man ramble for a few moments before speaking. "Mr Barlow-"

"She's innocent," Peter sobbed. "You have to leave her alone, you can't send her down for this I did it, what happened to Tina that night is all on me … Carla … she can't go to prison … she's having our baby and she … it's my fault … I'm the reason behind all of this … you have to arrest me."

"Mr Barlow I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with you," Hawthorne told him.

"But-"

Holding up her hand she silenced him. "Mr Barlow, I understand what you are trying to do here but it's not going to work, the evidence does not support your story, so I suggest you go home, get some sleep and never again try to make a false allegation or I will have no choice but to arrest you."

"I want you to arrest me," Peter insisted.

"I will not be arresting you for murder, I will be arresting you for making a false statement and interfering with a police investigation," Hawthorne said, making it clear that despite his desperation she wasn't buying his claims.

Burying his head in his hands Peter took a long, deep breath. "I need to make things right."

"This isn't the way," Hawthorne replied.

"I-"

"Go home Mr Barlow," Hawthorne instructed, standing up and heading towards the door making it clear that the conversation was over.

Walking out of the police station Peter felt deflated. "I just wanted to make things right," he whispered to himself as he buried his hands in his pocket.

Sitting down on the wall he realised that when he had left that morning he hadn't taken anything with him; no wallet, no keys, or money, leaving him with no option but to walk back home.

When he had headed for the police station that morning the journey had seemed short, because he'd had a plan, he was going there with the intention of making things right, of protecting Carla, of making sure that his daughter wasn't born in prison, of atoning for his sins.

But now as he made his way home the journey seemed insurmountable, he'd failed once again, the police had practically laughed him out of the station, Carla was still the main suspect in Tina's murder and there was every chance his daughter could still be born in prison. His feet were heavy and his heart pounding as he couldn't help but fear that he had just made things a hundred times worse. That his best intentions just weren't good enough.

- o -

Sitting down outside the flat Peter leaned heavily against the wall, he had promised Carla that he would stay away but he just couldn't, he needed to see her, he needed her to know that he had tried to make things right, that he was willing to sacrifice his own freedom so that her and their daughter could be safe.

Taking a deep breath he rung the bell, waiting a few moments he played with the keys in his hand, realising how easy it would be to let himself in but knowing that was a line that he couldn't cross, not when there was already so many trust issues between them.

"Hello," Carla's tired voice filtered through the static.

"It's me," Peter declared.

Carla was silent for a minute before speaking again. "Peter. Not now."

"I know I promised I'd stay away," Peter remembered. "But I really need to talk to you, to see you … Please Carla just 5 minutes and then I'll go … I just-"

His words were cut off by the monotone buzzing of the electric lock, letting him know that Carla had given him permission to enter.

Walking up the stairs he was greeted by the open door, stepping in he almost fell over a pile of boxes and black bags, looking around he found Carla in the kitchen, tangling a tea bag into a cup of hot water.

"You look tired," Peter observed.

"You came here to say something, so just say it and leave," Carla instructed as she dropped the tea bag onto the side before walking over to the sofa, sitting down she cradled her fingers around the mug.

Peter moved around and sat at the table. "I just came from the police station."

"They arrest you too?" Carla asked.

"No," Peter breathed. "I went to confess to murdering Tina."

Of all the things Carla had been expecting him to say that had not been one of them. "What? You … you said … you promised … that you didn't … that …"

"I didn't kill her," Peter reassured her. "But I feel like I did, just like I feel like it's my fault you got sick and I wanted to pay … I wanted them to make me pay and leave you alone … I wanted them to leave you alone."

Carla looked up, her eyes bright with a mixture of pity, anger, fear and disappointment. "You think I did it don't you?"

"That's not what I said," Peter insisted.

"You didn't have to," Carla whispered.

Peter watched as she took a sip of her tea. "That's not true Carla."

"You confessed to something you didn't do because you think I did it," Carla summarised.

"No. Yes. I don't know. Carla if you did I wouldn't blame you and I know that if you did it's still my fault and I should pay for that if in a moment of madness-"

Putting her mug down Carla stood up, silently she walked over and opened the door, not stopping to look at Peter. "You need to leave. Now."

"Carla-"

"You're 5 minutes is up," Carla observed, her voice flat and void of emotion.

Shaking his head Peter refused to move. "No. Carla-"

"You have no right to sit there and accuse me of murdering your mistress. I can't deal with this Peter … not now … how are we supposed to make this work, to raise our daughter together if you actually believe that I am capable of such a horrible crime," Carla ranted, her anger rising with every word.

"I love you Carla," Peter declared.

Carla looked down at the floor. "You don't know how to love."

"That's not true," Peter argued.

"You just accused me of murder," Carla hissed, her hands balled up against her side.

Peter stood up, taking a step towards her. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"What did you think would happen Peter? That you would come here, accuse me of murdering your little bit on the side, vow to take the blame for me and it would make everything ok? That I would be so grateful that you were willing to go to prison for a crime that I did not commit that all would be forgiven and I would fall into your arms? Is that how you saw this playing out?" Carla asked, her knuckles growing white as she tried to contain her anger.

"I don't know what I expected," Peter admitted.

Carla leaned her head against the wall. "I didn't do it Peter. I didn't kill Tina."

"I believe you," Peter said, desperately trying to undo what had already been done.

"No you don't," Carla sighed.

"I-"

Carla shook her head. "I know you had no respect for our marriage vowels, that the promises we made to each other didn't mean anything but I thought you knew me Peter, more than anyone else in my life I thought you knew me … sometimes I used to think you even knew me better than I knew myself but you don't know me at all do you?"

"That's not true," Peter breathed, echoing his earlier sentiment.

"That hurts Peter, probably more than anything else you've done to me that hurts because it doesn't just make our marriage a lie but it makes everything we ever had mean nothing, just the fact that you even considered my guilt for a second … I can't … I just …"

"Carla-"

Carla closed her eyes. "I need you to leave."

"I'm not leaving things like this," Peter insisted.

Carla looked up at him, her eyes dull and broken. "Peter. Please … I can't look at you right now. Just being here in the same room as you is taking more strength than I have … I can't breathe with you here … I can't … Peter you need to leave. I need you to leave."

"Ok," Peter agreed.

Once Peter was gone her whole body seemed to deflate, her knees buckling under her as she fell to the floor, loud sobs wracking her body as she tried to take deep breaths, to calm her nerves and pick herself up but this time she couldn't find the strength. Every time she thought she had been hit with the worse something else happened, knocking her further and further down.

Each trauma being the bad before the worse, the calm before the storm never once reaching rock bottom until now, as she sat alone, on the floor of her flat and cried herself to sleep, both emotionally and physically exhausted from the repeated blows of the last month.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm really sorry about the delay between updates but I was at Glastonbury and then working nights.

9.

"Carla."

"Carla."

"Carla."

Michelle's calls echoed around the flat as she knocked loudly on the door. "Carla I'm going to count to 10 and then I'm letting myself in."

"1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Car I'm coming in," Michelle announced as she turned the key in the lock.

Walking into the flat she nearly tripped over a pile of black bags, her eyes scanning the small living area before she found the object of her concern, curled up on the floor.

"Oh God. Carla," Michelle gasped, kneeling down next to her, relieved to see her chest rise and fall in a rhythmic motion, running her hand through the sleeping woman's hair she was relieved to find no signs of a fever.

"Car," Michelle whispered into her ear.

Carla's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Hmm."

"We need to get you up off of the floor," Michelle said, helping Carla to her feet. "What were you doing on the floor?" she asked as she helped her sit down.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes Carla looked down at her hands. "Peter was here, we argued and … I guess I must have fallen asleep when he left."

"You need to stop letting him get to you like this," Michelle told her, concerned about the effects of recent events on her health.

"Easier said than done," Carla mumbled, pushing herself into a standing position as she made her way over to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil.

Michelle watched Carla carefully, her concern growing as she realised how utterly exhausted and defeated her friend looked. Her feet dragging across the floor as if she didn't even have the energy to lift them off the ground and her hands shaking with the exertion it took to simply lift the kettle.

"I know," Michelle agreed.

Walking over to the small kitchen area she leaned on the counter. "Need a hand?"

"A can make a brew," Carla insisted, dropping tea bags into the mugs.

"What did Peter want?" Michelle asked, walking around and taking the milk out of the fridge.

Carla sighed. "He thinks I killed Tina."

"He actually said that?" Michelle asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice.

Pouring water into the mugs Carla shrugged. "He didn't have to."

"What exactly did he say?" Michelle questioned, wanting to know what had happened to cause Carla such an obvious physical setback.

"He wanted me to know how he'd been to the police station and tried to confess," Carla explained.

Michelle frowned. "He confessed to murdering Tina?"

"He tried," Carla breathed, handing Michelle her tea before picking hers up and walking back over to the couch. "But he didn't have all the facts right so they laughed him out of the station."

"What on earth compelled him to do such a stupid thing?" Michelle asked, her voice high-pitched with frustration.

Carla put the mug down. "Because he think I killed her, and in his twisted little brain he had the not-so-bright idea that confessing would put me in the clear and that I would fall to my knees and forgive him."

"Oh Carla," Michelle sighed, her heart breaking for everything her friend was going through.

"He really thinks I did it," Carla whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.

Michelle sat down, wrapping her arm around the distraught woman. "You can't let what Peter thinks get to you."

"Don't you see … if my own husband … a man who knows me better than anyone else thinks I'm capable of murder how am I supposed to convince a jury of 12 strangers that I didn't do it," Carla worried, playing nervously with the frayed edge of a blanket.

"It's not going to come to that," Michelle tried to reassure her friend.

Carla closed her eyes. "You don't know that," and she was right, Michelle didn't know that but for Carla's sake she had to remain positive that justice would prevail, after all the courts had already let the factory boss down once surely lightening wouldn't strike twice.

"Car-"

"I need to get dressed," Carla announced, cutting her friend off. "The factory isn't going to run itself."

Michelle's eyes widened in alarm. "You can't seriously be thinking of going into work?"

"Why not?" Carla replied.

"Car, you're 22 weeks pregnant and you've just got out of hospital, not to mention the fact you spent God knows how long sleeping on the floor," Michelle pointed out. "You need to rest, eat, sleep in your own bed."

Carla shook her head. "No. What I need is to get on with my life because if I don't get out of this flat then I'm going to drive myself mad."

"Then come over the road with me," Michelle offered.

"Michelle I understand what you're trying to do but I don't need a babysitter, what I need is to try and carry on as normal because this … sitting here worrying about all the what ifs isn't doing me any good," Carla argued.

Michelle nodded. "Ok. I'll come with you."

"You have a pub to run," Carla reminded her.

"Liz and Steve are more than capable of managing," Michelle shrugged. "Besides I need to fill you in on all the new orders Rob and I acquired whilst you were in hospital."

Smiling tiredly Carla knew there was no point in arguing with Michelle once she had set her mind to something. "Ok," she relented. "You win."

"I always do," Michelle joked as she watched Carla head to the bedroom to get dressed.

In a bid to occupy herself Michelle walked over to the black bags, curiosity getting the better of her as she opened one, lifting up the first thing she found she was hardly surprised to find that it was one of Peter's shirts. Putting it back she sighed, while she hated Peter for what he had done to Carla there was still a part of her that hoped at some point down the line they might eventually start to repair what had been broken between them.

Despite everything he had put Carla few there was no denying that when things were good between them they were really, really good he awakened a side of her that Michelle hadn't even realised was there. The Carla that she knew before Peter would never have considered having children, have allowed herself to believe that she could be someone's mother but he had given her that, he had given her the strength she needed to believe in herself.

Which also meant he was the only one that had enough power to destroy that belief, that his doubts of Carla's innocence would be more detrimental than any accusations the local gossips might make, or any charges the police could ever bring against her.

"Damn you Peter Barlow," Michelle ranted, kicking the bag.

"What has that bag ever done to you?" Carla asked, stepping out of her bedroom.

Michelle shook her head. "Nothing. I was just projecting."

"Well if you've finished projecting we have a factory to run," Carla reminded her, sounding stronger than she actually felt.

"I'm done," Michelle smiled, throwing her hands up in the air.

Carla nodded. "Good."

"Have you eaten?" Michelle asked as Carla locked the door to the flat.

Frowning Carla tried to remember when the last time she had a proper meal was, she'd had popcorn with Simon before the police had arrested her but after that she couldn't actually remember if she had eaten anything.

Michelle could almost read Carla's train of thought as she watched the other woman put her keys back in her bag. "You can't remember can you?"

"No," Carla sheepishly admitted, her insecurities getting the better of her as she panicked about how much she was already failing her daughter and she hadn't even been born yet.

Michelle took her friend by the hand. "First we eat. Then we work."

"Yes Boss," Carla mock saluted.

Walking into Roy's café Carla stayed close to Michelle, trying to ignore the way everyone's eyes turned towards her, walking over to the corner table she sat down, letting Michelle order then both some food as she took out her phone, opening up her e-mails she tried to concentrate on anything other than the whispers that filtered around her.

"You alright?" Michelle asked, sensing Carla's unease.

Carla shrugged. "No. But I guess I better get used to it."

"Want me to get Anna to make it to go?" Michelle suggested, not wanting Carla to have to sit through any more gossip than she had to.

Carla shook her head. "No. I have every right to be here. Innocent until proven guilty right?"

"Right," Michelle agreed, pleased with how Carla seemed to be trying to rise above it all and not hide away, because she had more than enough excuses to lock herself away from the world.

The rest of the breakfast seemed to pass uneventfully as Carla finished all of her breakfast, even ordering a few extra pastries as well as the usual order.

"You know you are only eating for 2," Michelle joked.

"Oi," Carla sung, gently nudging her friend.

"Only kidding," Michelle said. "It's good to see you've got an appetite back."

Carla nodded. "It's not just me to consider anymore, everything I do from now on is going to effect her life as well as mine."

"Mrs Barlow? Carla Barlow?" a tall, balding man asked as he practically jumped up from the step and headed towards her.

Stopping Carla eyed the man suspiciously. "Who wants to know?"

"You look so much like her," the man exclaimed.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sharon. You're Sharon Donovan's little girl, right?" he elaborated.

Carla felt like she had been punched in the stomach. "I … er … who are you?"

"My name is Henry, Henry Miller … I think … I think you're my daughter," Henry stammered barely able to get the words out now he was face to face with her.

"You're joking right?" Carla guffawed, not knowing what else to say.

Henry shook his head. "I've been looking for you for a very long time."

"Well I've been here for a very long time," Carla retorted, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"I've been living abroad, Sharon she sent me a letter just before she died but I didn't get it until last year when I moved back," Henry explained.

Carla looked to Michelle, her face a mixture of disbelief, shock and hope. "Is he for real?"

"I know as much as you," Michelle shrugged.

"Can we talk?" Henry asked.

Carla shook her head. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Please," Henry pleaded. "I didn't know. I had no idea. If I had known I would have-"

"You're about 40 years too late mate," Carla stated, cutting him off. "That's if you are who you say you are."

Henry took a tentative step towards her. "Please just 5 minutes?"

"Why now?" Carla wondered out loud, a million unanswered questions running through her head.

"The letter, since the day I received it I've been looking for you but I had no leads, no idea where you were living so I hired an investigator and it took him all of a week to track you down. I've been trying to work up the courage to … Please, can we talk?" Henry pleaded.

Carla once again shook her head. "I have nothing to say to you."

Reaching into his pocket Henry pulled out a business card, his green eyes wide and pleading and so like her own as he handed it to her. "I know this must be a lot to take in but please, when you've had time to digest it all call, anytime day or night."

Her hands were shaking as Carla took the card from him. "I have to go."

"I just want the chance to get to know you," Henry called out after her as he watched her walking into the factory he hoped with everything he had that it wouldn't be the first and last time he ever got to see her.

Walking into the office Carla flicked the card between her fingers. "Did that really just happen?" she asked Michelle, barely able to believe what had just occurred.

"Yeah," Michelle sighed. "It really happened."

"39 years Chelle," Carla whispered. "39 years without a word, a name or even a picture to know him by and now … he's here … Henry … God this is all just-"

"Surreal," Michelle finished for her.

Carla looked up at her best friend. "Messed up. I'm barely keeping my head above water as it is without a long-lost father climbing out of the woodwork. What do you think he wants? I mean the business is barely making a return so I don't have any money he can have."

"He didn't look short of money to me," Michelle pointed out. "Did you see the car? The suit? The watch?"

Carla shook her head tiredly. "No."

"Maybe he does just want to get to know you," Michelle suggested.

"She said he never wanted to be a father, that he ran a mile the minute he found out she was pregnant … why now Chelle? I mean of all the times he could choose to enter my life … why now?" Carla wondered, her thoughts running a mile a minute.

Michelle sat down opposite her. "There's only person that can answer that."

"And I just sent him away," Carla breathed, beginning to regret her decision.

Picking up the card Michelle held it in front of her friend. "You could ask him to come back?"

"And say what?" Carla shrugged tiredly.

"Everything you just said to me," Michelle suggested.

Carla looked at the card. "I don't know Chelle … Everything is such a mess; Peter, Tina, the baby … I don't know if I have anything left to give anyone else."

"What if he really does just want to be a father? It might be nice to have someone else in your corner, someone you can lean on," Michelle pointed out. "Because God knows Sharon never gave you that."

"He walked out on me," Carla whispered.

Michelle watched as her friend ran her hand tiredly through her hair. "Did he? I mean you only have her word for that."

"It's been almost 4 decades Chelle, she's been dead years now so he had plenty of opportunities to come looking," Carla argued.

"What if he really didn't know?" Michelle suggested.

Carla looked up, her eyes fixing firmly on the business card. "I don't know Chelle."

"If you don't ask you'll always wonder, at least this way you know you've tried," Michelle told her, wishing there was something she could do to take Carla's pain away.

With a shaking hand Carla took the card. "You really think it's the right thing to do?"

"I think if you don't you'll always wonder, any the last thing you need is more what ifs," Michelle sighed.

Nodding Carla slowly dialled the number, her hand resting on her stomach as the tiny girl inside her began an early morning gymnastics routine. "Hello … Mr Miller? It's Carla, Carla Co … Carla Barlow … I was wondering if you were free to meet for coffee?"


End file.
